


Our Very Essence

by HeroMaggie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha!Fenris, And Also Kickass, Angst, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Obvious AU is Obvious, Omega!Anders, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Snarky Anders is Snarky, Tags May Change, Talk of Rape, Talk of torture, canon style violence, discussion of suicide attempt, emphasis on the slow build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 49,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4595775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither man is looking to settle down, court, bond...mate... Both men have reasons for hating what each stands for...and both will have to decide if they will allow biology to dictate how they act and view each other or if they are more than how they were born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> World State Background:
> 
> Alpha, Beta, Omega: biological markers found in each person - a designation given as a child ages, as their personalities emerge, as their sense of self develops. A designation treated differently throughout Thedas.
> 
> Tevinter is ruled by the Mage Omegas. Par Vollen views each designation as equals. And Southern Thedas is ruled by the Alphas. 
> 
> From Orlais to Ferelden the noble classes, heads of state, and heads of the Chantry are all Alpha born. They tend to be great leaders and charismatic politicians. An Alpha can command respect in those around them - and sometimes find themselves compatible with an Omega, a person who compliments their gifts and brings balance to their life.
> 
> The most numerous in society are the Betas. Most live their lives happily toiling as merchants, farmers, soldiers...the backbone of society. They may not rule, but every Alpha knows that it is the Betas that chose the leadership. 
> 
> And then there are the Omegas. Born with an innate empathy, they are the heart of the lands. All mages are born Omega, though not all Omegas are born mages. The mages are gathered up by the Chantry, who teaches that they should be sheltered and protected, and placed in Circles of Learning - destined to live their lives watched over by the templar order. Non-mage Omegas are sheltered, protected, celebrated - and bonded to an Alpha who is compatible.
> 
> Alpha, Beta, Omega - biological designations that only touch on who a person is, what their destiny is, and how they will walk through life.

_**Kirkwall, Southern Thedas** _

  
Skin slowly reknit under his hands, healing magic pouring in a carefully controlled tide of blue warmth that spread up the leg and dipped into the wound. Magic that coaxed the body to heal, to fix itself - pain dissipating in the wake of that blue warmth. Honey eyes narrowed in concentration as the warmth pulsed once, twice, finishing the healing and leaving nothing but smooth skin.

A strong hand shot out to grab at his shoulder as he wobbled and he shuddered slightly. “You ok there, Anders?”

Anders nodded, dropping his hands to the cot and exhaled, “Jeb, I’m fine. You had a deep wound is all.”

“You know,” Jeb gentled his grip, “If you actually charged for your healing you could eat better.”

“Right, charge poor refugees who come to me for aid...what will they pay me with?” Anders shook his head, mussed strawberry blond hair falling into his eyes. “Your leg is all better. Watch those mooring lines.”

“You have food? Are you taken care of?” Jeb hopped up, glancing with worried eyes at the man who had just healed him. “I can invite you home…”

“Jeb, you’re hovering. Go home. Be with your wife. Relax.” Anders shook his head again and gestured at the man. “Go on.”

“Fine, but I insist on paying,” A small pouch was dropped on the cot. “And you’d better take it. My brother keeps asking if you’re well and I’d hate to tell him I let you starve.”

“You tell Anthony that I’m fine and to go find himself a nice mate. I’m off the market,” Anders took the pouch but frowned a bit. “I...I shouldn’t…”

“Take it. He means well. It’s not every day that you find such a competent Omega. And a mage to boot.” Jeb hesitated a moment. “Look, I heard that Ferelden refugee...what’s his name, Hawke? I heard he’s been hanging around. You aren’t…”

Anders simply raised an eyebrow and quirked his lips into a half smile. “If Anthony couldn’t sweet talk me, what makes you think a Ferelden refugee could?”

“Point,” Jeb grinned. “Take care, Anders. I’ll check on you in a few days.”

Anders watched the broad-shouldered brunet swagger from his clinic. Jeb meant well and was a good friend - one he had met shortly after reaching Kirkwall. His brother, Anthony, was serving in the militia in Starkhaven, a handsome Alpha with an easy-going smile and ale-brown eyes that sparkled when he laughed. Anders had let the man sniff around for a day or two before breaking it to him, gently, that he wasn’t interested in mating or bonding.

Anthony had taken it well, but still seemed to feel obligated to watch out for Anders.

It wasn’t surprising. An Omega healer living in Darktown was nigh unheard of. It was bad enough that he was Omega - the least populous people on the planet. But he had also been born a mage. An Omega mage healer in the bowels of the undercity, living free, was the rarest of rare - and Anders worked hard to stay under the radar.

He had just tucked the pouch of coins away - already allocated the funds for more potion ingredients and food for his patients - when there was a knock at his door and the sound of boots on the hard-packed floor.

“Anders! My favorite healer,” the voice belonged to Garrett Hawke - Ferelden refugee and entrepreneur. Blue eyes snapping with good humor and lips curled up into a wide smile, the man was handsome, daring, and charismatic, with the strong smell of pine and the musk of an unbonded Alpha.

A little too charismatic, Anders thought.

Luckily, the Alpha had his eyes on a different Omega - namely a little mage named Merrill that Anders had met the other day. She seemed nice, if a little flighty. The fact that she was a blood mage made him a little nervous but her magic sang without corruption - smelled of earth and green and iron. Anders didn’t normally keep the company of maleficar, but then again - he also didn’t normally encourage Alphas to come back to visit.

“I’m your only healer,” Anders said mildly. “Hello Bethany, Varric, Merrill.”

“You can still be his favorite healer,” Bethany gave a grin and hopped up on a cot. She was also a mage, a quiet one. Her magic smelled like the air after a rain, fresh and light, soothing and cool. It fit that she specialized in the elements - mainly ice and lightning. Her magic complimented his and if he hadn’t seen the possessive gleam in her brother’s eye, he would would have been tempted to flirt with her.

“Blondie, you’re not looking too worn today,” Varric laughed, slapping Anders on the back. The dwarf radiated good humor. He was a Beta and his merchant roots were there in the scent of rock and metal.

The smells swirled around in the clinic and made him relax - these were his friends, as new as they were. They had helped him find Karl, had been there when Karl had to be killed, had helped him through the weeks after - the grief, the pain, the mourning. That had bonded them into some sort of family unit and their scents made him settle.

“So...I know you aren’t here for my good looks and charm,” Anders joked. “What job do you have?”

“Funny thing,” Hawke leaned nonchalantly against the wall. “Got a letter from this Anso fellow - tracked me down through Meeran. And I need to tell Meeran to stop sending me work. I don’t work with people who try to fuck over my countrymen.”

“Garrett,” Bethany chided. “Language.”

“Sorry, Bethy. Sorry. Anyway, this Anso guy needs help. Somebody stole something of his...or something. The point is, it’s a night job and you know how night jobs are,” Hawke raised an eyebrow. “I need you tonight.”

Varric huffed a laugh at Hawke’s choice of words, grinning up at Anders who just shook his head. “Alright, alright. Come get me when...or is it night already?”

“Lethallin, you work too hard,” Merrill piped up. “Night is falling in an hour. Did you eat?”

“Andraste’s tits, don’t nag,” Anders groused. “You sound like Jeb.”

“That dock worker sniffing around you again? Or is he here for his brother?” Hawke stood suddenly, a possessive gleam in his eye. “Do you need me to talk to them?”

“Sweet Maker, no!” Anders held up a hand. “Calm down. He got injured, he came in. He paid me for some healing, checked on me like he does, passed on some well-wishes from Anthony, and left. That’s it.”

Hawke’s lips were pressed tightly together. “If they bother you, you are to tell me.”

Anders thought about slapping back and decided it wasn’t worth it. Besides, Hawke got this way about everybody in his little family group. Instead he nodded. “I will. I promise. So...how long till we leave?”

“Why don’t we go have a pint and then head out? Blondie here can have a bowl of the Hanged Man’s Special. Hawke can feel better because he’s seen Blondie eat. I can sit down for a minute...any problems with that suggestion?” Varric grinned up at Anders.

“Sounds good. Bethy, you’re home tonight. I don’t want you caught out,” Hawke said pointedly.

Bethany screwed her face up but sighed. “Fine. I’ll help Mother with the bread.”

“You don’t want a piece of this, Sunshine.” Varric said soothingly.

“I don’t think I want a piece of this,” Anders muttered to himself as he doused his lanterns and grabbed his staff. The feeling of Hawke’s hand on his back made him quiet...at least until Hawke moved over to walk with Merrill.

“Blighted Alphas,” Anders muttered in a quieter tone. Varric’s snort let him know that he wasn’t quite as quiet as he had been hoping for.

***

“The box is in a warehouse in the Alienage. I don’t care how you get it I just need it back,” The Beta, Anso, blustered.

Hawke’s nose twitched as he watched the agitated dwarf. “A box in the Alienage. Do you know which warehouse?”

“Yes, yes. Here’s the directions. I’m sorry, it’s just...I never thought I’d have to deal with this,” Anso fairly groveled at Hawke’s feet.

“We’ll get this handled.” Hawke handed the paper to Varric and nodded at the dwarf. Varric glanced at the address and started walking. When they were halfway to the Alienage, Hawke murmured to the group, “Be alert. This smells like a set-up.”

Anders sighed. At least he had gotten dinner out of the deal, though it had been a bowl of mystery stew. It was still better than the slightly stale bread he would have eaten so the night was a win. Course, tramping through the gloom of the Alienage after a box of Maker knows what tipped it back into crappy.

“This is it,” Varric hissed, reaching for his lockpicks. A few brief moments and the lock snicked and they were tiptoeing into the dark room.

The dark, empty room. The back room was also empty. The side room had two traps - both easily dismantled by Varric - and one empty chest.

“I’m going to strangle that dwarf,” Hawke growled, the sound low and harsh. It made Anders’ knees knock to hear it and Merrill sank down to the ground to cower. Hawke blinked and exhaled, reaching for the shivering elf. “I’m sorry. Shh...I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you.”

“Oh,” Merrill gazed up at Hawke, eyes filled with confusion and concern. “I just...you seemed so angry.”

“Not at you, little one,” He reiterated before glancing at Anders, who was still upright. “I’m sorry, Anders.”

Anders snorted. It would take more than one growl to make him cower. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t phase me.” Hawke raised an eyebrow and Anders met his gaze with a mild smirk. “Are we leaving or what?”

“I am so glad you aren’t my handful to deal with,” Hawke muttered.

“I’m so glad I’m nobody’s handful to deal with,” Anders snarked back. “Uptight, bossy...Alpha…”

The words drifted away as Hawke opened the door to reveal a line of armed and armored men and women. Both groups stared at each other, confusion obvious in the air, before one of the men spoke up.

“That’s not an elf…”

“Doesn’t matter. Our orders were to kill anybody who went through the door. Sorry lovey, looks like you all are about to be hurt. The little elf and the blond - keep them alive. We can sell them for coin. The other two, kill ‘em,” The woman, obviously the leader, growled.

Anders didn’t need to be told what to do. He put a barrier up around Hawke before moving back and putting a barrier up around himself. His eyes widened at the three fully armored and armed men barreling towards him and quickly gestured, summoning a lightning bolt to fly at them, causing the men to seize up and then drop, the smell of charred meat filling the air.

A glance and another barrier - this one around Varric. Merrill was holding her own - having summoned vines to trap those trying to hit her. Hawke cleaved through the attackers, his sword swinging in a wide arc and cutting into two or three men at a time. Anders aided him with a frost spell, freezing a man in place - one that Hawke shattered with a well-timed hit.

“Nice shot, Hawke,” Varric called out as he took out the last two attackers with his crossbow.

“Is everybody ok?” Anders called, rushing to check on his friends. Hawke waved him off and Varric just laughed. Merrill held out a leg that had gotten slashed in an attack and Anders ran his hand slowly over the wound to close it. He could sense Hawke hovering over him as he healed, the warrior’s frown palpable. The minute Anders moved back, Hawke was there to check on Merrill.

“I’m sorry they got to you,” Hawke murmured down at the elf who flushed.

“Oh, I’m sure it was my fault…” Merrill’s hands fluttered, her staff jiggling in her loose grip. “But Anders fixed it.”

Anders kept his face neutral as Hawke swung his eyes to meet his. Smiling faintly, Anders moved away from his friends to poke at the people they had just killed. A small token on the ground had his head tilting. A coin - Tevinter in origin.

“These were slavers,”He worried at the coin. “Why?”

“Looking for easy prey,” Hawke shrugged it off. “They set a trap. The question is - for who?”

“Anso would know,” Varric pointed out.

Anders stood, dropping the coin and trailing behind the group. Tevinter slavers - in Kirkwall. The injustice of it thrummed through his veins and for a moment, he shook. Then he swallowed past the anger and relaxed, happy Hawke hadn’t notice.

A sigh escaped him when they reached the stairs leading from the Alienage. He was bone weary from healing all day. The fight had taken a chunk out of him - a chunk he didn’t have to give at this time. The stairs taunted him - because even though they led from the Alienage, he still had several of these blighted sets to deal with before even reaching the lift to Darktown...and then a trudge to get home.

He came out of his fatigue-induced stupor to see a man standing at the top of the stairs, eyes wide with anger. He was yelling - something about how they would all pay for what had happened. Anders blinked to clear his thoughts and found himself further confused when another man staggered into view, blood dripping from his mouth - and behind him, an elf.

And elf who lit up with the Fade and could pull hearts from chests.

Anders did not hear what was said - Hawke was talking and the elf was responding - his voice deeper and more sonorous than any elven voice had a right to be. A voice that hit a chord in Anders, made his skin shiver. He lifted his eyes to meet deep green ones and swallowed. Deep down inside he knew this was an Alpha. It was more than the voice, more than the smell of lyrium, cool forest, leather, and that unmistakeable unbonded musk - it was something inside of him sitting up and noticing.

“You can call me Fenris,” The elf’s voice carried and Anders blinked.

“It is as I thought, my Master follows me. If I can ask for one more favor...I need help in confronting him,” The words made little sense to Anders. He shook his head minutely and tried to focus.

“If we’re fighting slavers, I’m in,” Hawke said, slapping the elf on the back. “I’m Hawke. This is Varric, Merrill, and Anders.”

The elf nodded at each, stopping briefly and frowning at Anders. “You have Omegas in your group.”

“Good people,” Hawke said with a smile. “Come on. Let’s go surprise this Magister in his den.”

Anders blinked as Hawke turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. “All of us are going.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t,” Anders frowned.

“I could feel it,” Hawke said, a little smile quirking up his lips. “Looks like perhaps you’ll be somebody else’s problem, eh?”

“Shut up, Hawke,” Anders muttered, stalking past his friend to follow the elf. He wasn’t looking at the elf’s ass...not at all. Just...following him. Sweet Maker, Anders thought as the the smell drifted back again to tease at him. How was he going to get out of this mess?

***

The door to the clinic slammed open, hit the wall, and nearly took out Anders as he stalked into the room. A glance at the door and he was slamming it closed and locking it. Standing there for a moment, shoulders tense and chest heaving, Anders wondered if he shouldn’t just pack up and find a new home.

Kirkwall had been a nightmare since he had set foot into the city.

Chantry run and with templars everywhere, Anders hid in Darktown among the refugees. He had only come to this blighted city because Karl, his lover, had been transferred to the Circle here. Anders had wanted to get him out before the Knight Commander who ran the Circle could do something to him. It was common knowledge that the Kirkwall Circle was among the worst with a long list of abuses perpetrated against the mages who lived there.

A chance meeting with Hawke had netted him some help and they had devised a plan to sneak Karl from the Chantry. But when they went to get him...well…

The blanks stare and sunburst brand still haunted Anders’ sleep. He still dreamed of sliding the knife into his lover, watching what was left of the man fade away.

Now he was trapped here - beholden to an Alpha, living in the sewers...and apparently compatible with the most asinine, cranky, disagreeable man he had ever met.

The elf, Fenris, had a seen his magic and had immediately informed the group that Anders needed to be watched. And he had spent quite a bit of time explaining in great detail the abuses of magic while gesturing at him and Merrill. Hawke had pulled Merrill to him to shield her but there had been no shield for Anders. Fenris had turned to the mage and snarled at him...the anger in his eyes so vivid that for once Anders couldn’t keep his facial expressions clear. He had fled.

And had returned to his empty clinic.

So much the better, he thought wearily. Anders had had enough of Alphas and their appetites to last a lifetime. Wearily checking the lock again, he shuffled over to a cot and fell face-first on it. He could get, maybe, two hours of sleep before some refugee came banging on the door.

Two hours would just have to be enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I believe this chapter can be summarized as "Anders does not wish for your help, Thank you and Good Day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait to post this but it was pretty much edited and ready to go so...here we go.

The banging on the door came about twenty minutes later and was especially frantic. Rolling from his cot, Anders staggered to the clinic door and pulled it open expecting to see an emergency. What he got was a frantic young man - one of the refugees who watched his clinic.

“Templar raid, Healer. On its way. You gotta...you gotta go,” The young man panted.

“Templars!” Anders gripped the door and gazed out into the gloom. “No, we will stay and fight.” His voice had dropped into a lower register, power starting to swirl around him.

“You can’t,” The young man wheezed. “It’s a small patrol, only three. If you kill them they’ll send more - they’ll send a bigger number. People will get hurt.”

Anders wavered, caught between conflicting emotions. Deep down inside he howled at the injustice. But looking into the frantic eyes of the young man...Thad, Anders remembered...Thad, Rachel’s son...he knew the boy was right.

“Alright. Two seconds. I’ll go through the tunnels.” Anders turned, hurrying to his small bag of belongings.

“Quick. They’re almost here.” Thad gave a final wave and disappeared. Anders didn’t blame the boy. If the Templars caught him here, he’d be questioned - possibly hurt. The clinic was just going to have to take the brunt of the attack. He could set up again, find something better. But first, he had to escape.

Other than the fact the space had been available, not too small, and had actual doors , the bonus to this location was a small entrance into the sewers. Not only did it make it easy to clean up, just sweep the blood and piss into the opening, but it provided an escape route. No templar could fit into the hole - not in their armor.

Anders, however, could.

He shoved his bag of belongings against his chest under his coat, tightened the buckles, took his last inhale of semi-clean air, and pulled open the grate - slipping down into the chute, and closing the grate behind him.

The chute looked smooth but actually had hand-holds - slippery, disgusting hand-holds - dug into the stone. Anders gripped them and started down, saying a rather crabby prayer of thanksgiving for his time in the Wardens. Without their training he would have fallen or worse.

His foot had just squelched into the soft wet below when he heard the clinic door splinter open and the sound of solid boots stomp in. He let go of the hand-hold and pressed back into the gloom. Shouts and the sound of breaking glass filtered down to him and he sighed. So much for his potions. Turning towards the dark tunnel, he moved away from his clinic.

He had gotten several paces when a torch hit the water, gave a sad sizzle, and went out. Shaking his head at the templars, Anders shuffled into the smelly dark - heading towards an exit that would pop him out in one of the lower levels of Darktown and far from the Templar raid.

***

The exit from the sewers dropped him off in a dark corner of a cul-de-sac. He pulled himself out, sighed down at his wet clothes, and looked around. It was quiet. Quiet and gloomy. Cocking his head, he listened and only heard the soft whispers of breathing. A deep inhale had him smelling sewer, rot, and a soft floral scent that smelled Beta.

Unless the Templars had a decoy, he was safe.

He gave another look around and started to the stairs that would lead him up one level. The best thing now was to visit Lirene for a bath...and news on if his clinic was empty. Thoughts of a bucket of clean water kept him going up the stairs and through the maze of Darktown to the lift that would dump him off in Lowtown.

Another quick look around and he was moving quickly through the early morning throng - people keeping a distance from him. That suited him fine; the sewer smell would mask his own scent and nobody would mistake him for anything but a poor refugee - exactly the image he wanted to portray.

Lirene’s door loomed in the early-morning light and he banged on it till it was open by Helena, Lirene’s assistant.

“Anders! Thank the Maker.” She pulled him in and slammed the door shut, not even wincing at his smell. “We were worried.”

“I was worried. I had to climb into the sewers. It’s a miracle I didn’t end up submerged.” Anders gave a sheepish laugh. “Was hoping for some clean water and news.”

“We can do better,” Lirene said from the back of the room. “Come on, I’ll draw you a full bath and get those rags clean.”

Anders grinned, “Now now, Lirene. These rags are the height of apostate fashion. I mean, my bedraggled feathers and patchwork coat carry an aura of hedge-mage.”

Lirene, as usual, just rolled her eyes. “Where was that Alpha of yours when this happened?”

Bright green eyes swam into Anders’ brain and he slapped at the memory. “Ah, Hawke isn’t my Alpha, Lirene.”

“And why not?” She looked vaguely outraged. “He pulls trouble enough to you.”

“Lirene,” Anders gentled his tone. “He’s found somebody to court and it’s not me. I don’t need an Alpha. I don’t want an Alpha. I’ve got enough work with the refugees.”

She held her look of outrage but pinched her lips, swallowing back the response. When she opened her mouth again it was to point to the door leading to the warehouse. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Are you sure you aren’t an Alpha? I might revise my stance if you were,” Anders teased.

Lirene batted a hand back at him but finally smiled. “You’re a handful, that’s for sure. I don’t think I’d be up for dealing with you, Serah Anders.”

He gave a wide grin and chuckle. That was exactly the kind of response he wanted to hear.

***

It was early afternoon when Anders finally emerged from Lirene’s shop - outfitted in new pants, a new shirt, and his old coat and boots. The pants and shirt weren’t really new - just new to him - but better than the rags that had been soaked through with sewer and slime. Clean, better smelling, and full of coarse bread - he made his way back down the stairs to the lift and began his trek back to his old clinic.

All along the way, refugees called out greeting - telling him they cursed the templars but good for the intrusion. Anders stopped to talk to several of them, reassuring them that he was fine and unharmed. The people here were poor, abused, and starving, but loyal. They were Ferelden to the core and ready to defend anybody they considered theirs. Anders was theirs and that was all there was to that.

So it was with a slight swagger in his step that Anders approached his clinic - slowing when he heard voices through the door. Lirene had promised that no more templars were around but there was the distinct clink of armor, the smell of oil...it made Anders pull lightly on the fade before he stepped in…

And found Hawke poking at the damage.

“Dammit Hawke, you gave me a heart attack,” Anders dropped his spell and groused.

“Was it a raid?” Hawke swung around and pinned him in place with a stare

Anders stiffened only a tiny bit and then forced himself to relax. “I had plenty of warning, I wasn’t in any danger,” he said flippantly.

“You were lucky,” The voice had Anders’ jumping and moving further into the room...which was the wrong way to go, his mind insisted. The only exit was back down into the sewers and he had just gotten clean.

The elf from last night gave him a measured look, eyes tracking him as he shifted to be closer to Hawke. “What...what is the bigot doing here?” Anders had to swallow down the shiver in his voice. “I didn’t expect to see him again.”

“Anders, be nice,” Hawke chastised. “We were coming to get you for a job when we found the door broken down. How did you get out?”

Anders couldn’t stop watching the elf move around the clinic. The blasted elf knew it too, a faint smile on his lips - as if he knew Anders was uncomfortable and was enjoying the discomfort.

“Anders?” Hawke’s voice prodded at him again and he shook himself.

“Ah, the sewers. I climbed down the sewer grate. That’s one reason why I chose this location.” Anders pointed to the grate and then moved away as both Alphas went to look down the narrow, dark hole.

To keep himself occupied, he rifled through his potions to see if any remained intact. Sadly, the templars had been thorough. The small pouch of coins given to him by Jeb jingled faintly and he gave a slight sigh. He had had plans for those coins.

“Anders!” The sound of Jeb’s voice hit his ears and he gave another sigh. The Beta rushed into the clinic and skidded to a halt at the sight of Fenris and Hawke. “Where is he?”

“What do you care?” The elf moved forward a hair, stance shifting to take in this new person.

“I’m here, Jeb. And fine.” Anders moved away from his broken work table so that Jeb could see him.

Jeb shot the elf an annoyed look and strode through the room, “Well, this does it. I’m taking you home and I’ll send a letter to Anthony to come get you.”

Anders choked at those words and moved away from Jeb - the movement placed him near the elf and that had him blanching a bit and ping-ponging towards the doors. “Jeb, don’t be irrational.”

“There were Templars looking for you. Anthony can keep you safe. He likes you, you like him. It would be a good match. And bonded…” Jeb’s voice drifted off at the slight growl from the elf. “And who are you?”

“Who are you?” The elf threw the question back at Jeb.

Anders threw his hands up at all of them. “I’m done here. Everything is broken so there’s no sense in rummaging. Jeb, your coin was well-timed. I’m going to go look for a new location. You all can, I don’t know, stand around and strut in your Alpha/Beta glories.” And with that, Anders stomped out.

He didn’t get far, just down the narrow corridor that led to the stairs when a hand snagged his shoulder and he found himself pulled into an empty alcove. Assuming it to be Hawke, Anders rounded on the person and found himself face-to-face with the elf - the Alpha elf from his clinic.

“Do you mind?” Anders tried to move past the elf and found himself blocked. “And where do you get off touching me?”

The elf narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, giving a delicate sniff, before settling back. “You are the mage from last night...Anders…”

“What’s it to you?” Anders tried to move past him again and again found himself blocked.

“I am Fenris, in case you have forgotten,” That ghost of a smile was back. Faint, but there. Anders decided he didn’t want to like it.

“And?” Arms crossed over his chest, Anders turned his head to look away.

“You are very difficult, for a mage. I suppose I am not surprised at this. Mages tend to be full of themselves - though rarely as stupid as you are,” Anders bristled at the tone, feathers nearly fluffing up in anger. That smile fully manifested for a whole half-second. “I did not mean to...my words were ill-chosen.”

“Ill-chosen? You called me stupid. Last night you basically called me evil," Anders pressed himself back against the wall when Fenris moved a hair closer. “Please let me go.”

“Hawke does not wish you to wander alone,” Fenris tilted his head, watching as Anders tried to scoot away. “I believe his words were - go after the fool and bring him back.”

“I’m my own man. Just because I’m an Omega doesn’t mean you get to push me around. Nobody gets to push me around. Not anymore,” Anders finally managed to shove past Fenris.

Who was narrowing his eyes on Anders, “I am not letting you out of my sight, mage.” The word 'mage' was growled.

“You can shove it,” Anders threw back.

“Typical. Not enough sense and too much ego. Tell me, why do you scrounge around down in the sewers? You are a mage, you should be up in Hightown,” Fenris nearly drawled the questions.

Anders simply gaped. “Because I’m a mage you daft...elf…”

“You could be living a good life. All you would need is to find one Alpha to control,” Fenris tried again.

“Contr...that’s it. I’m done with this, I’m done with you, and I’m done with Hawke. You can tell him no. He has the maps, he helped me out, we’re even...I’m out. I’m done. No more. Good day,” And with that, Anders turned and rushed from the elf, took two flights of stairs down and ducked into a little-used, nearly invisible corridor.

By the time he’d stopped running, he was alone.

***

Fenris watched the mage, Anders, dart down a narrow hallway. The undercity of Kirkwall was a confusing warren - one the elf did not feel comfortable navigating just yet. Leaning against the wall, hidden in the shadows, Fenris stared down the narrow hallway and frowned, kicked out at a stray rock. Annoyance and curiosity swam through him making his markings flicker gently before settling. Annoyance at having lost the mage. Curiosity at who the man actually was.

He had known the moment he had smelled the mage, the moment he had met those honey eyes, that this was one he was compatible with. At the time he had only know that Anders was Omega. It wasn’t until he saw the staff, felt the pull of the Fade, that he had realized Anders was a mage as well.

Fenris did not approve of mages. Even if this one...who smelled like cinnamon and spice, who seemed equally skittish and snarky, who made his heart beat just a little faster...seemed less fiend and more fool.

Just who was Anders? And why was he in Darktown running a clinic? What did he get out of this? Was this a ploy for power? If so - Fenris couldn’t see it.

The questions swam around in his mind until he saw the broken clinic doors. He stepped through and gave Hawke a bland smile. “Your mage did not approve of my chasing him.”

“He’s not my mage, Fenris,” Hawke said while poking around on the desk. “Merrill is my mage. Anders is...family. And yours, if I’m reading the way he looks at you.”

Fenris snorted lightly, “I do not wish for an Omega mage. I have had my fill of them.”

“You’re talking about the magisters,” Hawke sighed at all the broken glass. “Anders is rather the polar opposite. The man is going to kill himself down here - healing and giving away his coin and food.”

“He gives away his coin?” Fenris arched an eyebrow.

“Mmm...and his food. And his clothing if he’s not watched,” Hawke turned and leaned against the battered desk. “I met him several weeks ago. He’s a Warden...or used to be. I needed his maps, he needed help rescuing an old friend. The rescue went...sour. His friend was Tranquil.” Hawke frowned at the memory.

“He was trying to free a mage? How typical.” Fenris scoffed.

“More than just a mage, according to Anders. His first lover,” Hawke smiled slightly. “I get the feeling Anders isn’t fond of us Alphas. But I digress, we had to kill his friend and well...it was a bit of a cock-up. He feels like he owes me.”

“And does he?” Fenris wondered.

“Not in the least. He gave me the map and we couldn’t repay him by saving his friend. He’s...got some special circumstances. I suppose I should tell you now so you don’t find out during combat. He’s, ah, an abomination.” Hawke rubbed at the back of his neck, holding up a hand before Fenris could express outrage. “He merged with a Spirit of Justice. I can’t explain it all, you’d have to ask my sister or Merrill or even Anders but...he seems sincere, he’s not evil, and he’s very careful.”

“Kaffas,” Fenris muttered. “And he and I...that is...a joke. Obviously, I could never act on this.”

“Judging by the fact that you don’t have the mage in question with you, I’d say he isn’t too put out about that. Where is Anders?” Hawke stood and cocked his head.

“The Abomination fled me. He told me to tell you that he is done with you and whatever jobs you have. That you have the maps and he is out,” Fenris shrugged at that.

Hawke wiped a hand over his face and sighed. “I can’t do that. I can’t just…”

“You have taken him in as family,” Fenris stated.

“I have, we have.” Hawke frowned slightly. “Look, he told me a little of his past and it wasn’t good. He’s had it rough...not that you have had it easy. I just...do you understand what I am trying to say?”

Fenris gave a faint smile. “I am unsure, but well, I am not looking to bind the man.”

“Well, I’ll talk to Varric. He’ll find Anders’ new clinic and help me keep an eye on him. And when some time has passed I’ll go talk to him.” Hawke glanced around and sighed. “This is a total loss. He’ll have to start over from scratch.”

“I am sure it will be no hardship for him,” Fenris started, stopping and frowning when Hawke shook his head.

“If he’s hiding from me, I can’t help him. He’ll...Fenris, he’s always broke, never has any food...he heals himself into the ground and then comes out with me on jobs. I need him to go with me to the Deep Roads - a man who is grinding himself to dust. He had so little before and now it was taken from him. This was his home, Fenris. This was where he lived,” Hawke gestured at the dank room.

Fenris blinked at that, at the sad cots and lack of anything resembling luxury. This was not what he was used to when it came to mages and it made him frown. “So where will he go?”

Hawke started from the broken clinic and shrugged as he past Fenris, “That’s what Varric is going to find out for me. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”

Fenris nodded and followed his new friend out. Glancing back, he added the sad clinic into his estimation of the mage. Things were not adding up - Omega, mage, possessed, healer...living in the sewers quite literally...a Grey Warden. Fenris could sense a story there and wondered if he was truly interested in discovering it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders determinedly tries to move on with a new clinic in a new location. Little does he know that Hawke is keeping tabs on him...and is about to step back into his life - complete with one Alpha elf...an Alpha who is fighting off his instincts to pursue the mage.

The new clinic was a lot like the old clinic: a single room at the end of a cul-de-sac. This one was down a level and the cul-de-sac was short, the hall wide, and open to a broad “square” filled with beggars, Coterie barkers, and the occasional squatter tent.

He had waited a couple of days and then went back to the old clinic to move what furniture could be salvaged. Several refugees offered to pitch in; everybody in Darktown owed Anders for something: a wound healed, a bone set, a child saved...so help was easy to find. Lirene surprised him with a box of slightly chipped but still serviceable vials and cloth to make new bandages. Crates appeared in the clinic to be used for seating. A few people brought in old sheets for the cots.

A week of cleaning and organizing, and the new clinic was up and running.

Word filtered through Darktown and then up to Lowtown that the Darktown Healer had had to move. Within days, the line into his clinic was back to normal, and he was kept on his feet almost all day.

Two weeks after he opened, Anthony showed up to apologize for Jeb’s behavior. Home for a visit, he had heard the whole story from his brother and promptly headed to the new clinic. Anders had accepted the apology, allowed Anthony to fuss a little, and then opened his mouth to explain, again, how he didn’t want a mate. But before he could get too far into his rejection speech, Anthony spoke up.

“I sat Jeb down and told him in no uncertain terms that an Omega cannot be coerced into a bond. It’s a mutual decision between both people. I really don’t think Jeb meant anything by it, but Anders, I am sorry. As much as I’d love for the two of us to court, I know better than to push myself on an Omega,” Anthony radiated sincerity. His scent, an earthy combination of loam and wood, was nearly undetectable.

The Alpha was showing Anders that he had nothing to fear from him.

“It’s not that I’m not flattered. I am, Anthony. You are handsome, kind, and very understanding. You’re also very sweet. But...I can’t. I just…” Anders felt like he was revealing more of himself than he had wanted.

“What about that Ferelden...Hawke? Jeb said he and some Alpha elf were in your old clinic,” Anthony perched on a cot and tilted his head. “Are they taking care of you?”

“I told them both to fuck off,” Anders said plainly. “Hawke is sniffing after a little elven Omega. And the Alpha elf…” Anders’ scent spiked with nerves making Anthony raise an eyebrow. “Ahh..”’

“Anders.” Anthony perked up. “Are you compatible with an Alpha?”

“Don’t want to talk about it.” Anders muttered, rounding his shoulders and moving to poke at his herbs. “He hates mages at any rate. Even if I was interested, which I’m not, that pretty much dooms the entire thing.”

“A mage hater.” Anthony rubbed his chin and then stood, moving over to Anders. “Hey...hey now…”

“I’m fine. Just...thinking about it makes me upset. It’s like the templars all over again: they hate you, but they want you,” Anders quivered as the memories oozed into his thoughts. His mind seized and purpose filled him - purpose and the reminder that he was no longer at their mercy. That he would find justice for himself.

Anthony was oblivious to Anders’ internal struggle and placed a soothing hand on his shoulder. “Anders, if you ever feel threatened, you go to Jeb. You hear me? No Alpha has a right to terrorize an Omega like that. You’re a good man, a good mage. You work so hard down here. You deserve some happiness - even if I’m not the one who will give it to you.”

“I’m sorry, Anthony,” Anders let himself be coddled a little. “I’m an idiot for turning you down.”

“Yes you are,” Anthony laughed, squeezing Anders’ shoulder. “You are more than just Omega - or that’s what my Da always told us when Jeb would get upset at being Beta. Remember that, alright?”

Anders glanced over at the Alpha and smiled, “I will. Now get on with you. You have better things to do than sit in the sewers with me.”

Anthony let out a laugh, squeezed Anders’ shoulder once more, and then turned towards the door. He stopped right before he left the clinic. “It’s a shame. We would have had beautiful children.”

“Oh get out,” Anders said on a laugh. “Beautiful children indeed.” He waited for Anthony to leave before he let the smile fall, along with his hand - a hand that pressed against his abdomen while his frown deepened.

Shaking away any maudlin thoughts threatening to gather, Anders perched on a crate at his battered table and began to sort herbs - the repetitious job calming him. He had purpose, even if he refused to mate. That purpose had to be enough - it just had to be.

***

“He’s found a new spot further down in Darktown.” Varric glanced at Hawke and then back to his ale.

Ratting Blondie out to the two Alphas seemed a betrayal in some way to the Dwarf. Varric liked Anders - liked his sense of humor, his dedication to Kirkwall, and his drive. And he knew that the mage was really leery of Alphas. But the entire Deep Roads expedition needed the financial help that Hawke was bringing to it. It also needed Blondie’s warden expertise. The need for help with the expedition warred with Varric’s loyalty until he caved and got the information for Hawke.

Hawke hummed at Varric. “And how’s he doing?”

Varric really didn’t want to say.

“Varric,” Hawke raised an eyebrow. “How is Anders doing?”

“Shit, he’s same old, same old, Hawke. He’s healing himself ragged, giving away his supplies...I had food delivered like you told me to and my informant saw the man passing it out within half an hour. He kept a loaf of bread and a few apples for himself: the meat and cheese went to kids and pregnant women.” Varric watched as Fenris shifted.

“He gave away the best of the food?” Varric felt like a bug under Fenris’ gaze.

“That’s not all, that Alpha - Anthony - came by to visit. Stayed for quite a while.” The low growl being emitted by Fenris was making sweat gather along Varric’s lower back. “Blondie turned him away but not before Anthony made him promise to go to Jeb should he be harassed by you two.”

Hawke let out an aggravated sigh. “Sounds like I need to intervene.”

“You could just leave the man alone. He’s doing fine. No templar raids, no Coterie problems. He just heals and visits with Terri…” Varric let his voice trail off, cursing under his breath that he had let that last bit slip.

“Who’s Terri?” Fenris was tapping his fingers on the table, his gauntlet making a hollow tap tap tap noise.

“Rumor has it she’s the head of some secret mage organization. My spies can’t infiltrate it but...Blondie…” Varric rubbed at the back of his neck. “He’s very big on mage freedoms, as you well know Hawke.”

Fenris snorted, “Fool mage.” The words came out in a confusing mixture of annoyance and interest.

“Well, I will go down and see him today. Alone...or…” Hawke glanced over at Fenris who was back to growling. “You don’t even like him.”

Fenris clamped his lips together, “He is an enigma, Hawke. As I have said,I am leery of mages. But the thought of another Alpha near him…”

Hawke’s grin was filled with amusement, “I see how it is. You don’t want him, but nobody else can have him?”

“He doesn’t want anybody,” Varric muttered, more to himself.

“Anders needs us,” Hawke countered. “For many reasons.”

“All I’m asking is that you go in there nicely, Hawke. One of my informants got beat up and the man healed him for free. His kindness is spreading around, and if my Darktown spies see you two go down there and upset the Healer, they’ll turn on me.”

“We’ll be nice, right Fenris?” Hawke stood and stretched. “Maybe you should come with?”

Varric sighed and stood as well, “Yeah Hawke. Maybe I should.”

“Let’s bring Izzy as well. She’s friendly,” Hawke glanced at Fenris. “Right?”

“I will remove a hand if she touches him.” The words were spoken with the same level of nonchalance reserved for statements about the weather. Fenris gave Hawke a faint smile. “I jest. I would not harm her. Much.”

Hawke just shook his head, moving everybody down the hall to Isabela’s room, “You need to think about what to do about Anders. An Omega like that won’t just sit there and wait on you.”

“I get the feeling that particular Omega would flee at the first sign of interest from anybody.” Fenris was still smiling that faint smile, amusement evident in his voice. “He would be a lot of work. I do not know if he is worth the trouble.” Hawke laughed and pushed open Isabela’s door.

“Who? What?” Isabela was lounging on her bed and gazing at the three men with curiosity. “Mm, three sexy men. Are you here to visit or...visit?”

“We’re heading to Darktown to visit a friend and was hoping you’d come. He’s nervous around Alphas.” Hawke leaned against the doorframe and grinned at Isabela. “I figured a beautiful woman such as yourself would help put him more at ease.”

Isabela’s husky laugh filled the room, and she rolled from the bed gracefully, straightening her tunic with a flirty smile. “Oh Hawke, you are so cute. I do not put men at ease.”

“We should all thank the Maker that you aren’t Alpha, Rivaini,” Varric teased. “You’d have a monopoly on almost every Omega in Kirkwall.”

“Oo! Are we visiting one? How delicious,” She stopped by her mirror to fluff her hair. “Unbonded? How utterly fabulous.”

Fenris swallowed down the possessive growl. The mage was not his, no matter what his damn body said, he did not want to bond with a mage. Still, some sound leaked out, and he found himself in Isabela’s sights.

“Is he yours, then?” Isabela stopped in his personal space, her spicy scent filling the air.

“We should go,” Fenris growled, narrowing his eyes at Isabela. “Before I do something I will regret.”

“Children,” Hawke chided, sliding his arm around Isabela’s waist to lead her into the hall and then down the stairs. “Let’s all play nice, yes?”

“So boring,” Isabela pouted, though she waggled her eyebrows at Hawke. “Who are we going to visit?”

“A healer who helps the refugees.” Hawke pulled away to open the door to the tavern, making sure his entire group was together. They filed out into the gloom of the evening and turned towards the closest lift.

“The Darktown Healer?” Isabela looked surprised. “Rumor has it he’s a miracle worker.”

“He is a fool,” Fenris grumbled.

“Fenris,” Hawke glanced back. “We’re being nice to him.”

“So I should go home?” Fenris’ smile went full smirk. “He will not thank you for having me there.”

“He needs to get used to you; it’ll be fine,” Hawke assured Fenris. “You’ll see.”

Varric snorted. He was mildly afraid he should have just tried lying to Hawke. This entire visit was going to go poorly.

***

They found Anders asleep over his table. The clinic was empty, though the blood stains and mussed towels spoke of a busy day. The group stood just inside of the clinic and watched the healer twitch, his hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically as he dreamed. There was a distinctly awkward feeling in the air; they had not expected him to be passed out. And they definitely hadn’t expected to find him having what appeared to be a nightmare. Anders gave a soft whimper that had Hawke wincing and Fenris fisting his hands.

The noise had been heartwrenching.

“No...no...no...I’ll be good. No…” the begging carried across the clinic to the group.

“Shit,” Varric muttered, kicking at a cot. “One of us needs to go over there and wake him.”

The entire group turned to look at Fenris who shuffled. “Why me?”

“You know why,” Hawke whispered.

Fenris did know why. If they were compatible then his very presence would calm the mage. Or that was the theory - he had never been around a compatible Omega. Anders gave another sobbing whimper, one hand tightening enough to press nails into his palm.

Sighing, Fenris slunk across the clinic to stand by the sleeping mage. When that did nothing, he unbuckled one gauntlet and quietly placed it on the ground - then, slowly, reached out and smoothed a hand over the mage’s hair.

“Anders,” He whispered. “Mage. You should wake.”

The hair was soft under his fingers, smooth and silky, just as he had known it would be. Glancing down at the still-sleeping mage, Fenris ran his fingers back through the strawberry blond strands. Deep down, the nightmare was upsetting him. Part of him was screaming that his mage, his Omega, was hurting. An instinct Fenris didn’t even realize he had surged up, and he bent down, pressed his face to the mage’s hair, and exhaled.

“Anders,” His voice growled. “Wake up.” Anders’ eyes snapped open. Eyes widening at the realization that it was Fenris pressed against him, he panicked.

Flailing, he slid off the side of the crate he had been perched on and scrabbled backwards to press against the wall. Fenris straightened, green eyes filled with surprise and confusion pinning him in place.

They stared at each other for what felt like eternity, Anders’ heart pounding in his chest as fear slowly started to tighten around him. Breath hitching in his throat, he gradually lowered himself to the ground and curled into a tight ball. Fenris watched with sharp eyes, unsure of what to do or what he had done.

“How...how did you find me?” The words seemed scraped from the mage. “I said I wanted to be left alone.”

“Ah,” Varric cleared his throat, ignoring Hawke’s sharp look. “That was my fault, Blondie.”

“Varric?” Anders didn’t turn his head, eyes still glued to Fenris.

“Yeah Blondie, I’m right here.” The dwarf slowly approached the shaking mage. “Alright there. What’s all this, then?”

Anders’ slowly shifted his gaze to Varric. “Why?”

“Because I told him to keep tabs on you.” Hawke decided he had better step in and slowly moved towards Anders. “Come on, up you go, Fenris was just trying to help.”

“Please leave,” Anders pressed his face to his knees. “I’m too busy to deal with your nonsense.”

“Too busy healing or too busy with some underground mage movement...or both?” Fenris curiously asked.

“None of your business.” Anders hissed, scrambling up and scooting away from the group. “None. Either of you.” He ran into Isabela and stopped, eyes blinking owlishly at her. “Who are you?”

“Isabela.” She tilted her head and then raised an eyebrow at the men. “Is this why you brought me? Because I gotta say, I’ve never seen two Alphas piss off an Omega before, and this has been a real education.”

Fenris huffed and scuffed his foot. “I did not mean to upset him, simply wake him.” He looked down and rounded his shoulders, trying to appear less intimidating. “You were having a nightmare.”

Anders glanced at Isabela and she nodded. “You were, sweet thing.”

“Wardens. I’m a warden. It’s a hazard,” Anders said without thinking, swallowing the real nightmare back.

Fenris glanced up quickly and then back down. He wasn’t sure he believed the mage, but didn’t wish to start another fight. Not when he could still taste the fear on the air, could still hear that scared begging. Yet another puzzle piece to pick over, to try to slot in with the other puzzle pieces of this Omega.

“Look, Blondie, I’m sorry. Hawke said keep an eye on you, so I did.” Varric spread his arms and gave an apologetic look. “You know how Hawke is.”

“Thank you, Varric.” Hawke sighed with some amusement. “Well then. Now that we’re here and you’re awake...we can talk about this job I have. That I need some help with. Unless you have something going on...” Hawke turned wide, puppy eyes on Anders.

“You didn’t say anything about a job,” Isabela frowned.

“For tomorrow. Best to have the team in place first, right?” Hawke rocked on his feet and smiled winningly.

“No Merrill?” Anders was looking around for the elf.

“She already knows about it.” Hawke’s smile grew toothy. “She hears about a lot of things first.”

“I’m not telling you anything about anything,” Anders muttered glancing at Fenris while trying to straighten his coat. “My decisions are mine. Not yours.”

“Fair enough,” Hawke decided to prod later, when Anders was more relaxed. “I’ve got a job for a place called the Bone Pit.”

“Maker, that place is a death trap.” Anders grumbled.

“Well, it’s infested with something. You know the miners, what are the chances of us getting out there and back in one day?” Hawke pursed his lips and looked at Anders.

“The miners go out at the start of their four day shift and come back at the end. They camp while they work. Twelve hour days, four on, three off. Unless they get injured - then I see them and send them back.” Anders was relaxing, slowly moving to a cot to perch. He saw Fenris move towards him, stiffened, and then forced himself to relax. “If we’re clearing the mines, we should plan for overnight.”

“Right, then get your camping gear together. Varric, can you get him a room for the night so that he can get some rest and food?” Hawke slapped the dwarf’s shoulder.

“Sure Hawke. Won’t make no mind to bunk him for the night. Come on Blondie, let’s get your stuff together.” Varric looked around the clinic and paused. “You do have stuff, right?”

Anders sighed and stood, shuffling to his work table where a small bag sat. He grabbed it, threw potions into a pouch, poked in a basket by the table, and nabbed a ratty blanket, rolling it up; and then grabbed his staff. “Right. We’re good.”

“That is it...all you will need for the job?” Fenris asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Look, this is it. All I got. And trust me, I’ve slept on worse things. Wardens usually have,” Anders muttered the last words to himself. Nodding at the doors, he waited for the group to leave before pulling the doors closed and locking them. He nodded to a small urchin, “Going to be out two nights. Potions are made up - have some with me but there should be plenty. Tell Lirene I’ll be back day after tomorrow.”

“Got it, Healer,” The kid caught the bit tossed at him.

“Right, let’s just go.” He muttered, moving to walk near Varric.

Varric glanced up at Anders as the group moved down the hall. When he was sure none of the Alpha’s were looking, he reached out and patted Anders’ hand. “Hey,” he whispered, “just come home with me. I’ll make sure you aren’t bothered tonight.”

A glanced down at the dwarf and Anders nodded, sighed. Hitching the blanket over his shoulder, he trailed after the group. He stayed back with Varric until they reached the Hanged Man. Then, refusing to look at Hawke and Fenris, nodded at Isabela and headed up the stairs to Varric’s rooms.

“Give me some time with him. I’ll get him to relax.” Varric glanced at Hawke and Fenris, a frown pulling at his lips. “Just...give him some time, alright?”

“Yeah, Varric.” Hawke gave a sigh. “I’m heading home. Watch out for him tonight?”

“With both eyes, Hawke.” Varric promise. A nod at the rest of the group and he headed up to his rooms. Fenris shared a glance with Hawke and then took a seat at the bar, waving off company and ordering a bottle of wine.

He determinedly steered his thoughts from Anders and the reactions seen today. Instead, he focused on what it would mean for the group if he and Anders could not find some sort of balance...some way to co-exist. Hand tapping on the bar, he waited for his wine and pondered fearful Omegas, his history, and how to manage both.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varric takes the time to talk to Anders and a friendship blossoms.
> 
> Fenris takes the time to listen - and interest grows.

“Here Blondie.” Varric put a bowl down in front of Anders and then took his own seat. “Hanged Man special - which isn’t that special.”

“Special enough.” Anders said on a shrug, digging into the stew. He kept his head down as he ate, eyes on his food. Varric wasn’t sure he even tasted what he was shoveling into his mouth.

Guilt gnawed at the dwarf, making him squirm, and he let out a sigh. “Look Blondie, I’m sorry.”

Anders stopped eating and lifted his eyes, meeting Varric’s. His smile was pained. “It’s alright.”

“No. Not at all.” Varric shook his head. “I like you...not like that, calm yourself. As a friend. I know Hawke likes you too, thinks of you like family. He’s just...Merrill’s refusing to allow him to court her. She says she’s still settling in, needs to find her feet first. It’s left him a little on edge.”

“Good for her.” Anders sat up a little straighter. “No need to rush these things, after all.”

“Hawke disagrees, but Hawke’s a bit…”

“Alpha?” Anders finished the sentence with a slight smile.

“It’s of interest that Broody didn’t let him go down to your clinic alone.” Varric kept his voice mild and unassuming. “And he was pretty straight with Rivaini. No touching.”

Mention of the elf had Anders frowning, “Varric...I…”

“Look, Blondie. What is it? You tell me, I tell nobody. But if it’s something...somebody should know.” Varric leaned forward. “I actually do care.”

“What do you want me to say? That the templar order likes to foist aggressive alphas on us? That rape is common? That forced breeding happens? I was in the Circle for long enough to see these things…” Anders pushed back from the table and pulled his knees to his chin.

“And these things...did they happen to you?” Varric felt a little sick at the words.

“Would it matter?”

“I’m going to interpret that as a yes.” Varric held up a hand when Anders opened his mouth. “You don’t have to spell it out. I’ll try to keep them off you, alright?”

“Yeah, Varric. Yeah. So...where’s my room?” Anders fidgeted.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to be alone. I, ah, can take another room and you can have my bed.” The dwarf looked embarrassed.

“I’m not throwing you out of your bed, Varric.”

“Well, but I don’t want you out there where any of the riffraff can bother you,” Varric said.

“I work and live in Darktown.” Anders pointed out.

“And down there you have a line of people to watch out for you,” Varric countered.

The two of them stared at each other and then Anders gave a chuckle. “How about I sleep with my clothes on? I can trust you to not maul me, yes?”

“Blondie, I promise to stay on my side of the blankets.” Varric’ huffed with laughter.

Anders relaxed his legs and picked his stew back up. “You’re not bad, for a dwarf and a Beta.”

Varric’s laugh filled the room. “You’re not so bad yourself, Blondie. Not nearly as much trouble as everybody says.”

“Don’t go spreading that around.” Anders took a big bite of stew and licked his spoon. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Right, right. I’m going to go bother Nora about some water so you can take a bath. I can see you about to argue and I’m going to just ignore it. You’ll bathe, I’ll head down to the bar for a while, and then we’ll get some sleep. Maybe tell stories.” Varric chuckled as he stood up.

“Braid hair and talk boys?” Anders laughed into his stew. “Pillow fights?”

“Sure Blondie, whatever makes you happy. But eat that stew first, got it?” Varric moved to the door and glanced back in time to see Anders shake his head, an open, honest smile on his face. It made Varric wonder how much of what they saw was just an act - and how much of it was truly Anders.

***

  
“Why are you down here and not in your room?” The question had Varric spinning around, blinking at Fenris who raised a bottle at the dwarf.

“Why are you here and not at home? Aren’t we leaving bright and early?” Varric waved to Nora “Hey Nora, can you have somebody pull the tub and set it up in my room? Water too - doesn’t need heating. Just water.”

“Fine Varric, only for you,” Nora sighed.

“You’re a real sweetheart,” Varric flipped a silver to Nora and watched her roll her eyes. He chuckled and turned back to Fenris, eyebrow raised. “So?”

“Is that for the mage? Is he up in your rooms?” Fenris was looking like he had had the Hanged Man stew - disturbed.

Varric sat down and ran a hand over the table top, frowning at the sticky spills and knife marks. He kept his eyes on the table, on the long gouges in the wood from countless daggers. “Fenris, why do you care?”

The mild tone of voice had the elf squirming for a moment. “He is a puzzle.”

“He’s a man. A man who has been damaged. And my friend.” Varric shot back.

“Damaged?” Fenris frowned. “How?”

“Well now, that’s not my story to tell. You should just know that he has his reasons for being hostile and they are valid ones.” Varric finally looked up. “Why are you here?”

“He is sleeping in the Hanged Man. It is unsafe. I would know which room he is in so I may keep guard.” Fenris looked out over the crowd, thoughtful. “I do this of my own free will. Hawke did not ask. He is too busy mooning over the blood mage.”

“Well, you can rest assured that Anders will be safe and sound seeing as how he’s staying in my bed tonight,” Varric let one eyebrow slide up his face at the sudden vicious growl. “Problem?”

“The mage is…” Fenris bit off the words and growled again.

“Yours? No, he’s not. I was worried, so I offered him my room. He wouldn’t take it unless I stayed. We’ll be doing this the sleepover way. Clothes on and everything.” Varric couldn’t help the smirk. “Might braid his hair and tell him a good night story, though.”

“I will sleep in your room near the door then,” Fenris said finally. “I have brought my gear with me.”

“Maker, it’s not a real slumber party.” Varric whined a bit. “Go bother Isabela. She’ll be more fun.”

Fenris gave a tight smile. “No.”

“Fine, but I’m not allowing you to harass him.” Varric waved at the a waitress and ordered a whiskey.

“I am not here to harass; I simply want to keep him safe.” Fenris took a drink of wine and frowned. “I do not believe Hawke realizes how deeply the mage fears me. It would be...wise...to help alleviate the mage’s fear.”

“Fine, just don’t upset him.” Varric muttered as he tossed back the shot of whiskey. “Well, he’s taking a bath so...game of diamondback while we wait?”

“Deal me in, Varric.” Fenris grinned toothily. “I believe you still owe me two silver. Let us see if I can win more of your coin.”

“Nug shit.” Varric muttered as he pulled out his deck of cards. “Absolute nug shit.”

***

Anders was on the bed when Varric and Fenris came up. Fresh from the bath but dressed in his loose pants and tunic, the mage was starting to comb his still damp hair when Varric stumped in. The smile that was starting to form fell when Fenris stepped into the room.

“Blondie, before you jump up and flee, let me explain.” Varric held up his hands, though Anders seemed frozen to the spot, a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. “Broody here was just concerned that you would be molested while sleeping at the Hanged Man - much like I was. He is not joining us in the bed and will be staying by the door.”

Fenris dipped his head down and kept his shoulders rounded - making himself appear more fragile, more weak. “I am not here to hound you.”

The hand holding the comb waivered and then dropped to Anders’ lap. “You were concerned...about me...a mage…”

“Fasta vass, yes. You a mage. Is that so hard to understand?” Fenris growled.

“Calm down there, Broody. You have gone on some spectacular anti-magic rants.” Varric shook his head and moved across the room. “How was the bath?”

“Amazing. Thank you, Varric. I did not realize how dirty I had become.” Anders looked at the comb, lips twisted into a wry smile. “Hard to stay clean in Darktown.”

“See, you need to come visit me more. I’d let you bother me for a bath on occasion. And the stew is cheap...not tasty, but cheap.” Varric was unbuttoning his coat, shrugging out of it and leaving him in a fine lawn shirt. “You need help?”

“With?” Anders blinked at Varric and then slid his eyes to Fenris.

“Your hair.” Varric sat on the bed and started working on his boots.

Fenris had opened his mouth when Varric asked, and Anders watched as he swallowed and looked away. The hand holding the comb shook a little bit before it settled. “No...no I got this. I’m a big mage, can comb out my own hair and everything.”

“Suit yourself. I thought we were having a slumber party.” Varric had gotten his boots off and was putting them and his socks away.

“We could talk about boys.” The words slid out of Anders’ mouth before he could stop them. Fenris choked back a laugh, his ears flushing as he fought down the mirth. He struggled for a moment, giving up and barking out a huff of amusement.

“Shall we discuss Hawke, then? And his terrible luck with Merrill?” The elf chuckled to himself as he unrolled his bedroll.

Anders snapped his mouth shut and cleared his throat. “Ah...well...I mean, she has only been in Kirkwall for a little longer than I’ve known Hawke. She’s still settling.”

“And Hawke is an Alpha on a mission.” Fenris said dryly, settling down on his bedroll and unbuckling his chestplate. “I have seen it before. Too caught up in the compatibility to get to know the Omega.”

“Yeah?” Anders glanced at the elf and then looked away, going back to combing out his hair.

“In Tevinter, the mages rule. The Alphas are their strong arm. The Alphas strut and preen, trying to catch the attention of an Omega - or better still, the eye of a mage. They do not stop to ask what kind of man or woman the mage or Omega is. They simply strut, caught up in themselves.”

“I’ve never seen an Alpha strut,” Anders mused. “The ones I’ve been around tended to be overbearing arsehats.”

A half smile quirked up Fenris’ lips. “Ah. I have similar thoughts on mages.”

Anders snorted at that. “I know.”

Varric had been quiet through the exchange, crawling onto the bed to watch the two men talk. “Seems like it has less to do with Alpha and Omega and more to do with the people in power,” he said. “In Tevinter, that’s the mages. Here, it’s the Alphas.”

Both Anders and Fenris glanced at Varric, who just smiled. Anders narrowed his eyes and then rolled them. “You’re a horrible matchmaker.”

“I do not believe I require your assistance, Varric. Should I wish to pursue the mage, he would know,” Fenris added.

“Oh...I would? Because what, you’d break down my door and drag me off?” Anders challenged.

“Because I would tell you, mage. Because by that point I would know you - your likes, your dislikes, your thoughts, your dreams. I would have watched you till I was sure I wanted you, and then I would go to you and ask if I may court you - as is proper.” Fenris finished pulling off his armor, stacking it to one side. He placed his sword on the bedroll and laid down.

Anders stared at Fenris, watching as the elf wiggled to get comfortable, and blinked. He felt a surge of interest and then one of annoyance - he should be working, not sleeping. There were injured, there were mages in need of aid…

“Blondie, go to bed. You’re glowing.” Varric slid under the covers and curled up.

Fenris glanced over to see a blue nimbus around Anders, his eyes backlit with the Fade. The mage shook his head and seemed about to stand. “You are safe here,” Fenris added.

“I should be working,” Anders’ voice was a little deeper, a little more authoritarian. “This is sloth.”

“You need rest to help rescue miners tomorrow.” Fenris pointed out. “Which is important work. The miners need our aid.”

Those eerily lit eyes settled on Fenris and seemed to ponder him and his words. After a few heartbeats, the glow faded and all that was left was a man - a too-thin, tired looking man - sitting on Varric’s bed. He didn’t say another word, simply curled up under the covers, clutching them to his chin.

Fenris lay back down and rolled to face the door. The smell of cinnamon and spice drifted across the room and wrapped around him. He inhaled and smiled slightly at the delicate scent, at the way it seemed to be inquisitive. If anything, Anders was no longer as fearful of him - seemed more confused than anything. And that boded well for future jobs with Hawke.

On the bed, Anders lay curled in a ball. He could smell the forest and lyrium, Fenris...he could smell Fenris. And the scent wasn’t nearly as terrifying as it had been.

And that, more than anything, made Anders want to run.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke gets ideas about Fenris and Anders...
> 
> Fenris finds out more about Anders...more pieces to the puzzle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **angsty warning ahead. We won't stay in the angst for too long, I promise...
> 
> At least not THIS angst.

“Stop putting food on my plate.” The words were said with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “I have food on there already.”

“You have a slice of bread and some apple slices. You will eat the meat and eggs as well.” The response had Anders huffing. “Do not huff, mage. Eat.”

“Sweet Maker, we have one semi-friendly conversation and now you’re nagging me,” Anders whined. “Varric...help me out here.”

“You should listen to Fenris,” Varric’s response was distracted - he was too busy reading a letter from his supposed publisher. “Bronto’s ass crack, they want me to write another romance. How many times do I have to tell them I don’t do romances.”

“Mage, so help me…” Fenris growled.

“I’m going to go back to my clinic if you keep this up, elf.” Anders growled back.

“Boys, behave.” Varric slammed the letter down on the table right as Hawke walked in. “Morning Hawke…”

Fenris and Anders froze. They were sitting next to each other at the table, a platter of hard boiled eggs, sausages, ham, bread, and fruit in front of them. “Hawke,” Fenris said finally.

“What in the void?” Hawke blinked.

Anders took the opportunity to shove an entire sausage in his mouth. Varric chuckled. “Were you just waiting for Broody to not be looking?”

“Shut up.” Anders garbled around the sausage. He swallowed, gave the platter a considering look, and grabbed another sausage.

“If he’ll eat, I’ll stare at the wall.” Fenris grumbled, turning so that he wasn’t looking at the mage, who stuck his tongue out before shoving an entire hard boiled egg into his mouth.

“I thought we’d have to get you on the way out, Fenris.” Hawke took a seat.

“I spent the night here.” Fenris said smoothly, turning his head slightly to make sure Anders was still eating.

“You got a room too?” Hawke was staring down at Varric.

“He slept in front of my door.” Varric said with a grin. “Blondie slept next to me.”

“You slept with Anders?” Hawke turned goggling eyes on Anders, who choked on his egg. Fenris turned around and slapped him on the back, making egg spew onto the table.

“We had a sleepover: talked about boys, braided our hair...” Varric said airily. “And then blondie curled up on his side of the bed, I curled up on mine, Broody here barricaded the door, and we all went to sleep.”

“Well, you two went to sleep. Anders has nightmares and Varric snores.” Fenris glanced back at Anders.

“I’m a _warden_. I have darkspawn dreams...I explained this to you,” Anders groused.

“Loud darkspawn dreams. I shudder to think of how you will be in the Deep Roads.” Fenris raised an eyebrow, “Better or worse?”

Anders stopped to think about it. “Don’t sleep much when down there,” he said finally.

Fenris snorted. “Eat another egg,” was all he said.

“And you two are...are you courting?” There was a jealous gleam in Hawke’s eyes.

“No.” Fenris shook his head. “But having the mage frozen in terror around me could be dangerous when we are out. He must know that, despite my feelings on magic, I do not wish harm upon his person...often…though the last nightmare that woke me made me consider a small amount of harm.”

Hawke gaped at Fenris, who simply bit into an apple. Anders snorted and ate another egg, frowned at the realization that he had followed a command, and then pouted. Varric sighed at the both of them. “Really,” was all he said.

“Sorry Da.” Anders snarked as he got up. “Anyway, I’m ready. Sooner we get out there, the sooner I can return home.”

“To the sewers,” Fenris scoffed.

“Important. Work.” Anders stressed.

“This sure sounds like more than just - let’s be friendly.” Hawke said with a raised eyebrow.

“If I was courting the mage, you all would know,” Fenris said calmly.

“How?” Hawke leaned back in his seat. “You’re pushing food on him, hovering, being attentive...seems pretty cut and dried to me.”

“I am not interested in anything at this moment, and neither is he. Forced mating is not something I do, Hawke. He barely tolerates me and I am unsure if he can be trusted.” Fenris started gathering up the bread, packing it with his rations in a pouch.

“Yeah,” Anders chimed in. “What...he...bugger. I’m ready to go.”

Varric stood and went to grab his pack. “I am as well, Hawke. Where’s everybody else?”

Hawke glanced between the three of them and sighed, “Downstairs.” He turned and stomped from the room.

“I believe Hawke’s questions revolve around Merrill,” Fenris murmured, picking up his own belongings. “He told me his parents were very...ah...romantic...about their own bonding.”

“Oh delightful,” Anders groused. “His father was a mage, yes?”

Varric nodded, “He was. Met Hawke’s mother here in Kirkwall, and wooed her away from her comfortable, yet boring life as a noble. They had Hawke first. The twins were a little later. He’s a good five years older.”

“Twins with a mage,” Anders murmured. “Rare. Very, very rare.”

“And how do you know?” Fenris held out one more egg to Anders who took it with a frown. “Eat, mage. You are skin and bones. I will not have...ah...you wasting.”

“You were going to say something possessive.” Anders stepped back behind Varric.

“I apologize. It was a slip of the tongue,” Fenris turned his back on the mage and checked his pack one more time. “How do you know twins are rare?”

“Oh well, I am a healer. I mean, I’ve seen a lot of pregnancies. An Alpha mother with an Omega father? The chances of children are slim enough but to have three?” Anders shrugged, biting into the egg and chewing thoughtfully. “They were blessed.”

“They were, from all accounts, blissfully in love,” Varric added, as they left his rooms.

“So Hawke grew up the child of a happy bonding,” Anders mused. “No wonder he’s so frantic about Merrill. I suppose one of us should talk to him.” He popped the rest of the egg into his mouth and refused to think about how he had, yet again, followed a command from Fenris.

“I will,” Fenris turned, his need to check on the mage making him itch. “It would go over better from an Alpha who understands coerced relationships.”

“Oh? You do?” There was just curiosity in the question. “Because most Alphas don’t seem to understand that an unbonded Omega is not just waiting to swoon at their feet.”

“You speak from experience, mage.” Another piece of the puzzle slid into place, a small one - the tip of something that would need to be handled and discussed. It made his shoulders tense to think of Anders being abused by Alphas, and he made the conscious effort to relax them. “I speak from experience as well.”

***

“I’m surprised your brother let you come with us.” Anders was walking with Merrill and Bethany, the three mages keeping close to each other and slightly apart from the rest of the group. Aveline and Hawke led, followed by Isabela and Varric. Fenris kept behind the mages, saying it wasn’t safe to keep their most vulnerable at the very back.

Hawke had made eyes at Merrill, sighing when she glued herself to Anders’ side. Bethany had given him a look and joined Anders, her eyes darting back at Fenris periodically. The elf made all three of the mages a little jumpy, a little nervous.

“Oh well, I cried.” Bethany let out a soft giggle. “And he caved.”

“You didn’t,” Anders glanced at her, appreciation in his smile. Appreciation noticed by Fenris, who let out a low growl. Anders ignored the growling.

“I most certainly did. He’s too high-handed. With all of you, I’m perfectly safe,” Bethany said primly. When Anders gave her another smile that resulted in another growl, she raised an eyebrow. “What’s with the elf?”

“Ahh…” Anders tried to think of a way to explain it. He heard a huff from behind him and couldn’t quite suppress the chuckle. “Compatible.”

“Oh! Is he courting you, then?” Merrill perked up.

“No,” the word was spoken by both Fenris and Anders. Anders’ eyes widene,d and he flushed. “Ah no, Merrill. He just...you know...it happens.”

“The mage is a stranger. Why would I court a stranger?” Fenris asked. “Everybody seems convinced that we should.”

Merrill glanced back at Fenris and nodded, “Exactly. Why can’t people get to know each other first? It would save a lot of heartache.”

“Anders, is it true that the templars harass the mages in the Circle?” Bethany asked, her fingers creasing her tunic. “Aren’t they all Alphas?”

Anders scowled, “I...yes. They are mostly Alpha. There are times that a templar and mage are compatible.”

“What happens?” Merrill asked, eyes wide.

“Nothing should happen. We are given suppressants and watched. But...sometimes... there is little oversight, and if the templar is higher placed or if the mage is...ah...being punished…” He paled a little and swallowed. Purpose roared through him, bringing color back to his cheeks. “The Chantry overlooks a lot.”

“I doubt what you speak of is prevalent, mage,” Fenris scoffed. “You are telling me that the templars are given unfettered access to mages? These are your templar...they are your Chantry’s army. They are made of the faithful and exist to keep you and those like you safe from harm.”

Anders tightened his lips. “Abuses happen, Bethany. But we’ll protect you from the Chantry and the Circle.”

“Did...did something happen to you?” Bethany reached out a hand, gently gripping Anders’ wrist. “Is that why you joined with Justice?”

“So...what do you think ate the miners?” Anders tried to change the subject - his mind touching on the feeling of armored hands holding him down, the helplessness. The path fell away as he plummeted back into memories - dark, painful memories.

“Mage,” Fenris was there beside him and holding his arm. The touch of the elf’s gauntlet had his skin going cold and clammy.

“Hawke, we need to rest.” Fenris called, leading Anders to a rock. “Mage, look at me.”

“I’ll be good,” Anders whispered. “Please don’t.”

“Mage...Anders?” Fenris peered into vacant honey eyes. From beside him he could feel the worry from Bethany and Merrill. “I...do not wish to…”

“Anders? Sweetie? I’m sorry.” Bethany patted at one cold hand. “Hey...it’ll be alright.”

The rest of the group had stopped, and Fenris could tell they would group around the mage: the swaying, pale mage. “Give me a moment with him, and then we will go.” Fenris’ voice brooked no argument. Hawke nodded and gestured to Merrill and Bethany - the two mages slowly moving from Anders.

Fenris knelt down and took those cold, clammy hands in his and squeezed them gently, “Mage, look at me.”

“I’ll be…” His voice whispered, something flashing in his eyes and then dulling, the memories overwhelming the voice howling about justice.

“Good, I know mage. Were you not good?” Fenris watched those honey eyes widen.

“I won’t run anymore. Please let me out of the dark,” Anders whispered.

Fenris frowned, “The dark? Anders, look at me. Me.” He cupped one scruffy cheek and watched as awareness filtered back into the mage’s gaze.

“Fenris?” Anders frowned. “What…”

“You had an attack of some kind. Said you were in the dark,” Fenris felt the need to comfort this mage well up and had to fight it back. “You will explain.”

“No...I...no. I don’t know you well enough. I’m sorry,” Anders shook his head.

Fenris gazed at him solemnly and then stood. “Solitary?” His mind connected the dots between punishment and dark. “Did they try solitary? That is what they did to slaves who ran...a week usually broke them.”

Anders swallowed, “A year,” he whispered. “I don’t...I don’t want to speak of it.” He stood and stumbled past Fenris, shaking himself.

Fenris watched as the mage straightened and gave a wan smile. “I guess I just got overheated,” he said on a light laugh.

“You alright to go on?” Hawke was frowning, clearly not believing Anders.

“Oh yes...I sat down and feel better. If I feel faint again, I’ll tell you,” Anders said with a nod.

“Probably from working too hard,” Merrill said, trying to draw attention away from what had happened. The group nodded and turned to start their hike again.

Fenris allowed Anders to walk ahead. He thought about what he had just learned, another piece of the puzzle - a horrific one - and slotted it into the growing picture. It was apparent to Fenris that if he wanted to ever consider courting this mage he would have to go slowly, gently - because perhaps he was looking at somebody just as damaged as he was.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bandits, talk of dragons, organization to head into the Bone Pit...
> 
> Varric slowly turns matchmaker and Anders isn't sure what to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for kick-ass Anders to make an appearance.

_**The Bone Pit** _

That’s all the sign said. It was accompanied by a picture of the owner, an Orlesian named Hubert, being hung and eviscerated. The group stopped to stare at the sign. Anders rolled his eyes and continued down the path. When he didn’t hear any footsteps behind him he stopped to look back.

“What?”

“You’re just going to march in there? What if there’s a dragon waiting for us? What if there’s a mob?” Hawke raised an eyebrow.

Anders gave a short laugh, turned, and continued down the path. “You’ve been to one shit-hole filled with things that want to kill you, you’ve been to them all.” He started humming under his breath, unstrapping his staff as he walked.

Fenris watched him with amusement, surprise, and a hint of pride. If he ever considered courting, an Omega with spunk and sass would be amusing. He gave Hawke a bland look and followed Anders, offering the mage a mild half-smile when he turned. “It is not often that I agree with a mage, but your words are valid. Coming, Hawke?”

Hawke gave a huff and waved the group after the two men, his eyes rolling when Fenris settled in to walk slightly in front of Anders. He glanced back at Merrill and gave the little elf a hopeful smile, one she tentatively returned. Seeing that made him perk up and stride forward with confidence - Varric rolling his eyes at the posturing.

The trail wound around open, arid land. Mining had undermined the entire area, corrupting the soil and poisoning the foliage. All that was left was dry rock and dust, bugs and buzzards. Periodically there would be signs saying Caution, Dangerous, and Anders’ personal favorite, the ones that read Beware in blood red paint. He felt it a nice touch considering all the patients he had from this pit.

They crested a small rise and came to a large, open area filled with tents, shacks, and cooking fires. And bandits. Anders had a brief thought that bandits were like cockroaches - they were everywhere, annoying to kill, and tended to avoid bright places. The bandits turned to look at the emerging group and did what every bandit gang does...they charged.

Right into an electricity storm. Fenris hadn’t even had a chance to draw his sword when Anders lifted his hands, lightning wreathing them. The lightning swirled out and spread over the running bandits, forming a tight cloud of electricity that launched bolts downward. He followed it up with a wave of ice - catching the vanguard and freezing them.

Only about a third of the bandits emerged from the lightning storm, and Fenris gave Anders a wide grin and activated his brands, his body streaking forward as he unsheathed his massive greatsword. He launched himself into the air and came down in the midst of the remaining bandits, yelled a challenge, and swung out. Anders, startled by the grin, almost got disemboweled as one bandit appeared and swung at him. His staff came up, catching the sword at the last second, and he turned the blade and struck out with his fist - the bandit yelling and going down from a punch to the throat. Anders swung his staff back around, pulled on the fade, and let loose with another blast of ice - freezing another couple bandits and allowing Fenris to slam them into chunks.

The rest of the group hurried into action, Hawke and Aveline running towards the remaining few bandits while Isabela gave a laugh and followed. Anders hung back, watching as the rogue and two warriors finished up the fight. Leaning on his staff, he looked over as Varric ambled up.

“That was some lightning storm,” Varric said, resting Bianca on his shoulder.

“I thought it was a little wobbly,” Anders remarked, watching with interest as Aveline shield bashed a bandit, the man not getting back up.

“No, no...had great coverage. And that frost spell thing,” Varric nudged Anders’ hip. “I think it made Broody a little hot under the...I was going to say collar but he doesn’t have one.”

“Have I mentioned that you’re a terrible matchmaker?” Anders glanced down and into Varric’s amused eyes.

“Ever stop to think that perhaps I’m just trying to watch out for you?” Varric hummed. “And if it gives a certain broody Alpha a chance to get to you know better, well...how is that a bad thing?”

“You doing this for Hawke, too?” Anders watched Fenris shaking the blood from his sword. The elf turned and seemed to run his eyes down Anders’ body, nodding when he noticed that the mage was unscathed.

“Naw, Hawke can handle himself. Daisy’ll lead him on a merry chase, they’ll settle down, have a brood of adorable children, and I’ll get to play indulgent Uncle. But you and Broody there? Well, I think you both could use a push.” Varric watched as Fenris started to stalk over to them. He let his hand brush against Anders’ hip again and suppressed a smile as the elf frowned. “Believe it or not, I think you two would be good for each other.”

“Thanks, Da.” the sarcasm was thick in Anders’ voice. He noticed Fenris only after the elf was almost upon them and straightened. “Don’t leave me.”

“Ah Blondie, you’re perfectly safe. I’m going to go over there to check on Hawke. You just play nice,” Varric gave Anders’ one last pat on the arm and then ambled away, nodding and grinning at Fenris.

“Mage,” Fenris came to a stop in front of him.

“Ah...yes?” Anders fidgeted with his staff, “Need healing?”

“Tis only a scratch, no. I...” Fenris frowned. “Are you unhurt?”

“Yes?” Anders met Fenris’ eyes and then glanced away. “You sure it’s just a scratch.”

“I am,” Fenris nodded. “That was...what you did...the quick thinking…”

“I was a warden,” Anders stressed the word warden. “Gotta be quick or you're a dead warden.”

“Yes well, it was well done,” Fenris let his voice drift away, shifting on his feet. He gave a tight nod and then turned, nearly stomping away.

Anders stood at the edge of the clearing full of smoking, dead bodies and had to wonder just what was going on.

***

“These men were dead when the bandits got here.” Anders said as he poked at one of the bodies. “Claw marks, bite marks...some scorching.” He frowned and bent down, sniffing along one wound. He turned the body over and blinked, picking up something small and iridescent.

“What’s that?” Hawke asked as he loomed over Anders.

“Dragon scale,” Anders frowned more, turning the scale over his in his hands and then bending it, watching the flex. “Young. Dragonlings. If there’s dragonlings then we have a dragon...at least one. Probably several males and one High Dragon.”

Anders’ words had the group gazing up at the sky, eyes searching. He chuckled. “We’d already know if the High Dragon was here.”

“How do you know so much about dragons?” Bethany asked, pushing Hawke out of the way and settling down next to Anders who handed her the pretty scale.

“Oh, wardens see all kinds of beasties,” He tilted his head, examining the dead man’s face. “I knew him,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry,” Bethany stroked the scale.

“He had a wife and kids. I will have to visit them. They will be...Maker…” Anders stood, pulled Bethany up after him. “They must have disturbed a nest. Have you all fought dragons before?”

The group stared at him as if he had four heads. Anders sighed again, “Right. Well...I guess I’ll take lead then.”

Hawke stepped forward to argue and found Fenris there first. “Mage…”

“Mmm? Was this where you tell me that you’re an experienced dragon slayer?” Honey brown eyes glared balefully at the elf.

Fenris shuffled, but a hint of a smile quirked up his lips, “I shall stand behind you. You are to move the minute you are engaged.”

“Oh don’t you worry. I’ll spray them down with ice and then get out of the way. Dragonlings are cute but they are pretty bitey.” Anders explained while glancing around the ruined camp site. “You know, if we cleaned out a couple of the tents we could use this area when we’re done. Hard to sneak up on and it’s got cover.

Hawke rubbed his chin and glanced at Aveline who shrugged. “Sounds like a solid plan,” She said. “And we could take inventory of the dead - if Anders knows them.”

“Sadly, I probably do,” Anders gave a soft sigh. “Right well…”

Hawke nodded, “Let’s clear out this place first. Sooner we get this done, sooner we can clear the mines and then rest.” The group all nodded at each other and got to work.

***

It didn’t take long to clear out a section of the camp - not with the amount of people in the group. Anders had known almost every fallen miner. By the time the bodies had been moved, he was pale and quiet - the strain clear on his face.

Fenris watched him press his hand to the shoulder of a young man - one probably not much past adulthood. Head bowed, Anders lips seemed to be moving, as if he was praying. He then pulled out a tiny slip of paper and jotted something down, and then moved to the next body. He did that for each fallen miner, his scrap of paper filled with scribbles, his lips moving continuously.

When he was done, he stood and stretched, gripped his staff, and glowered at the mines. “It’s too bad we can’t shut them down for good,” He muttered.

“Hubert’s a bastard but at least he employs Fereldens,” Hawke said as he moved to stand next to the mage.

“They are worked like slaves, threatened, and paid a pittance,” Anders growled low, his skin gaining a blue sheen.

“Peace, Anders. We will clear out the mines and make it safe for the other miners. It’s all we can do. Would you want more people down in Darktown?” Hawke placed a hand on the angry mage’s shoulder.

Anders seemed to fight with himself and then sighed, drooping, “No. No I wouldn’t. It’s no life down there for families. The dark eats them up, swallows their lives, and leaves them husks. No, you’re right. I was just…”

“It’s admirable the way you wish to help them, to help all of them,” Hawke soothed. “But we can’t save everybody.”

“I can try,” Anders glanced at Hawke. “I can try to.”

Varric glanced over at the two men, “I can trap a couple of these here chests if we want to leave our stuff out here. Nobody would be daft enough to touch my traps.”

“Yeah Varric, excellent idea. Everybody, put your stuff in the chests. We’ll use the tents here tonight,” Hawke called.

“Don’t know if I wish to camp so close to the mines but I suppose it’ll work,” Aveline groused quietly, shoving her gear into a chest and watching Varric lock and trap it. “It had better be here when we get back, Dwarf.”

“Calm yourself, Aveline. Your stuff isn’t going anywhere,” Varric chuckled. It was quick work to lock up the gear and gather together. Anders patted at his pouches, made sure his healing potions were easily accessible, counted out his lyrium potions, and then gestured at the mine entrance.

“We ready?” He asked, a glance back.

“I am behind you,” Fenris answered. “We go slowly.”

“Well,” Anders snarked as he started walking, “I wasn’t going to go in with fireballs blazing...that would just piss them off.” There was a snort of laughter from behind him and he took a second to be surprised that the laughter made him smile - and then he was slipping into the dim tunnel, staff held in one hand, and lightning crackling around the other.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bone Pit, Dragons, and Relationship talk...this has been a busy day for Anders...

“Just how many spiders and dragonlings can live in one cavern?” Hawke asked as he shook his sword, blood splattering messily over the already gore-soaked ground. “Seriously…”

“This is nothing.” Piped up Anders, peering into a side cavern and shaking his head. “Wait till you’re in the Deep Roads.”

“Surely the only things down there are darkspawn.” Hawke slid on what looked like a piece of meat and caught himself on Varric’s shoulder. “Varric...what do you think?”

“Why ask me, Hawke?” One golden eyebrow slid up Varric’s face.

“You’re the dwarf,” Hawke gestured.

“And he’s the warden. So...Blondie, what all’s in the Deep Roads?” Varric stepped around a still twitching spider corpse to follow Anders down further into the mine. He may not be a dwarf, but Anders seemed to instinctively know where to go, seemed to be able to tell when something was going to attack - what passages looked safe and which ones looked too dangerous. Varric could only figure that being a warden meant spending a good bit of time underground.

Anders held up a hand, peered around a sharp corner, and then kept going, “Oh you know: darkspawn, deepstalkers, spiders, dragonlings, on occasion a small dragon, ghouls...shrieks...broodmothers…”

Hawke made a disturbed noise, one echoed by most of the group.

“Mmm, yes. And in certain spots, Blight.” Anders stopped at what looked like a door carved into the rock. His head tilted, and he carefully stepped through, staff at the ready. The group heard what he had a second before a man crashed into Anders, both of them going down.

“Holy void, Holy Andraste...Maker save me…” the man gibbered as he thrashed against Anders.

“Here now...Fenris, don’t hurt the man.” Hawke started forward, hand out to stop Fenris as he nabbed the squirming, panicked man by the back of his shirt and pulled him from Anders.

“Jansen?” Anders lifted a glowing hand, pressing it to the back of his head, sighing as the sudden headache dissipated.

“Healer?” The man pulled from Fenris and covered his face. “Oh Healer...it is you. Maker bless you. We was working in a new section, and Karl gave the wall a good hit with the pickaxe and there was a crack and then them little things came tumbling out. They got Karl - ate his face off! We scattered and I...I went the wrong way.”

Anders stood and moved to Jansen, who was sobbing now. “Alright. Let me see your wounds. Hey...you’re safe. We killed all the things between here and the exit.” He let his magic wash over the upset man, closing cuts and healing bruises.

“Don’t go that way. That way is a bigger one,” Jansen relaxed as the magic soothed him.

“Bigger one?” Fenris was frowning at the hand touching the miner. He shifted a bit to stand in front of Anders.

“And it breathes fire,” Jansen whispered. “I...I gotta go. I can’t stay here no more. Thank you for the healing. You’re Maker sent. I’ll have the wife do up some bread for you. Swear it!” And with that the man took off, dodging through the group and jogging down the path.

Hawke glanced at Anders who grinned. “Jansen’s wife makes a great loaf of bread.”

“Was he talking about a dragon?” That from Aveline.

“Yep.” Anders

“And we have to kill it,” Aveline let out a sigh. “Only for you Hawke. Only for you.”

“Hey!” Hawke grinned, his eyes sparkling. “How bad could one dragon be?” The group quietly glared at Hawke. Merrill scooted to stand near Anders, her face filled with a mixture of fear and excitement.

“Anders will kill it,” She said confidently.

The entire group stared at the little Omega who simply smiled. Fenris gave a grumble. “What do we need to know?” He rumbled at Anders.

Who blinked in surprise. “Ah...don’t clump together. Watch the tail slap. And the back legs. You don’t dodge back there and you’ll get kicked. Most importantly, do not let it take off. Mages should avoid fire spells. And if you have fire balm, use it. Especially if you plan on standing in front of it.”

The group took a minute to rifle through their bags, jars of balm being distributed. Fenris watched as Anders rubbed balm into Merrill and Bethany’s face, the three Omegas checking each other - avoiding the Alpha’s help. Hawke was giving Merrill sad looks, watching as Anders’ fingers worked the balm into her ears when Fenris moved over to him and gestured to the three Omegas.

“You will worry them,” He whispered.

“What?” Hawke blinked.

“Your stare is predatory. Anders is not flirting, merely helping. Even I understand that,” Fenris reached up and smoothed a bit of balm around Hawke’s beard. “Show her that you trust her, that you understand her. Do not hound so. She will come around if you show gentleness.”

“Is now really the time for this talk?” Hawke asked in exasperation.

“We will be spending the night out here. The Omegas may wish to camp together. You will get jealous and act out. I can see it. Vent your aggression on the dragon. Leave Anders to me. Allow Merrill to come to you,” Fenris said quietly. “Hawke, I have been forced before. Do not force this.”

Hawke sighed, “I’m sorry, Fenris. I didn’t mean to bring up painful history with you. I’m just jealous of how well you are doing with Anders.”

Fenris gave a wry smile as the man in question glanced at him and looked away, “I do it for his safety and mine. It is too early to know if either of us would ever want more.” He slapped Hawke on the shoulder and moved away, watching with interest as Anders began to slowly amble over once he was away from Hawke.

Anders fidgeted and then coughed, “Do you, ah, need help? With your balm?”

Fenris had wondered if the mage would ask and had left his neck clean to see. It was a good sign that they were settling, though the shiver of anticipation currently slipping over his skin was a nuisance. “I have not applied it to my neck.”

Anders flushed, “I can help. Just help. Not because…”

“Of course,” Fenris turned and bowed his head, holding still as long fingers gently rubbed the waxy balm into his skin.

Anders swallowed as he finished smoothing the balm onto the back of Fenris’ neck. His fingers twitched and before he could stop himself, he smoothed down the white hair and then rubbed a bit of balm on the tip of both ears. Fenris’ quiet inhale had him stepping back quickly, hand dropping. Fenris glanced back at the Omega...ears pinked and eyes wide. Both men stared at each other and then Anders moved away to check on the rest of the group.

“You sure it’s too early?” Hawke had sidled up, a big grin on his face.

“Shut up, Hawke,” Fenris growled. “Just...shut up.”

***

The mine opened to a wide, flat area high on the mountain. They had found where the miners had discovered the dragon’s lair - bodies of both miners and dragonlings decorating the ground. Anders cautioned the group that they would probably be facing an adult male dragon. At least one, he had said. And when he saw the flat area, he nodded.

“Too small for a High Dragon,” He murmured.

“You have fought one before?” Fenris asked, respect in his eyes.

“Two, though one was a re-animated bone dragon,” Anders said absentmindedly as he stuck his head out of the opening to peer around. “That one was special. The other was just a High Dragon.”

“Just,” Varric scoffed. “Blondie, you and I need to talk more.”

“I’ll tell you about the bone dragon over dinner,” Anders tossed a smile back to the dwarf, who gave a thumbs up. “Alright. Ah...well…”

Hawke moved up to the front and gave Anders a big grin, “I’ll go first.” Before Anders could say anything, he strode through the door - sword already pulled from his sheath. Anders glanced back at Fenris and rushed out, dodging back towards the edge of the clearing when the sound of wings filled the air.

The dragon landed and lifted its head, screaming to the sky before dropping its gaze and letting loose with a cone of fire. Anders gestured and a barrier appeared around Hawke, the warrior giving a wild laugh and charging towards the beast.

The rest of the group followed. The warriors hounded the dragon, Aveline taking up the spot nearest its head to shield bash it. Hawke and Fenris worked on either side of her, their swords attacking the thick hide.

“Merrill, can you keep it on the ground?” Anders yelled and watched as the little elf nodded, her eyes closing and fingers clawing out. Vines thicker than his ankles burst from the ground and entangled the dragon. Bethany cast a wave of frost at a back foot and Anders followed it up with a wave of frost on his side.

There was a twang and an angry roar from the dragon - Varric’s bolts peppering the head. He gave a laugh and moved to stand near Anders. “This poor thing is destined to fall. Hawke’s here.”

Anders rolled his eyes in response and slammed his staff down, lightning snaking across the ground to wrap around the dragon’s feet. There was another inhale and then fire was spraying in his direction. “Shit!”

The barrier flew up just in time, the flames lapping around the edges and making both men sweat. “That’s it,” Anders growled. Blue edged into his eyes as he raised his arms, hands splayed to the heavens. “I’ve had enough of this fire shit.”

Clouds pulled together and the wind whipped up. He held the spell, gathering more energy, before gesturing at the dragon. Lightning flew from the clouds and slammed into the wings and back. The dragon screaming again, this time in pain. Aveline took the opportunity to bash her shield into the dragon’s snout, the crunch of bone heard over the sizzle of electricity. She pulled back and thrust, her sword sliding in between the dragon’s jaws to lodge in its throat.

Merrill yelled as she tightened her grip on the vines, the dragon’s thrashing threatening to pull them loose. Hawke gave another wild laugh and swung, his sword connecting with the neck with crushing force. Fenris followed up with another hit and the dragon spasmed and then fell.

The group stared at each other and then at the fallen dragon. Anders’ felt his lips twitch, a giggle escaping from him. Varric gazed up at him, mouth open, as he giggled again and then started laughing. Fenris was staring at him, a small smile forming. “What’s so funny, blondie?”

“We’re alive,” Anders sniggered.

“And that’s cause for laughter?” Varric was shrugging at the group, almost all of them staring in shock at the hysterical mage.

“A good laugh is an excellent way to let out the fear of dying,” Anders said around another giggle.

“The mage is...correct.” Fenris agreed, coughing lightly and then chuckling. “This was well done.”

“Is anybody hurt?” Anders called, pulling himself under control.

The group looked at each other and then back at Anders with wide eyes. Everybody shook their heads...surprise on their faces. Hawke scratched at the back of his neck, “Just some bruises...I think...I think we’re all fine.”

“Good...then I think we’re done here. Unless there’s another tunnel,” Anders twirled his staff and slipped it back onto his back.

“Let’s gather up anything we can see and head back to camp,” Hawke said as he glanced at the dragon. “These things usually have a horde, right?”

“Maker…” Anders rolled his eyes. “High dragons do. And no, I don’t want to track down this one’s mate tonight.”

“How bad could one high dragon be?” Isabela mused. “This one went down easily.”

Anders had reached the cave entrance and turned around to look at Isabela, eyebrows raised. “You see this clearing? The high dragon wouldn’t fit in it.” And with those words, he turned and slipped into the cave, a soft humming tune filtering out to the group.

Isabela looked at the wide clearing, back to the cave entrance, and muttered, “balls.”

***

“That was well done.” Fenris had caught up with Anders in the tunnel. Anders glanced over at the elf with surprise. “You should not wander off alone.”

“I’m…”

“A former warden, I know.” Fenris looked thoughtful at they walked. “Capable, yes.” Anders gave him another surprised look and flushed. “I may have...my words when we first met. You should know they were spoken in anger.”

“And?” Anders stopped, crossing his arms over his chest and hunching his shoulders. “You still treat me with suspicion.”

“I cannot promise to change instantly, Anders. I was a slave to a magister and he was…” Fenris sighed, his hands clenching. “It is enough to say that he still hunts me. That my life has been ruled by mages.”

“We’re not all…”

“No, you are not all like him. Though I do not trust mages, nor do I trust magic, you should know that I am beginning to trust you,” Fenris took a step towards Anders who stepped back.

“What are you saying?” Anders took another step back and felt the rock brush against his shoulders.

“That I will not push you, but I do find myself drawn to you. And I wish to know you better.” Fenris didn’t press, instead taking a step back. “You have, obviously, been abused. I will not further your fear. But I would ask if I may visit…”

“I’m infertile.” The words hit the air, and Anders slammed his head back into the rock as he closed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to say them, but the strange mix of fear and anticipation had pushed the words from him. "You should know that I am probably infertile."

Fenris blinked and tilted his head. Seeing the distress on Anders’ face made another piece of the puzzle click. Blue fade light flickered into being, filled the tunnel with a soft glow. Anders opened his eyes and met ones filled with understanding, “The lyrium gives me powers to take a man’s life, but it has most likely robbed me of my ability to procreate.”

Silence stretched between them as the words drifted away and Anders swallowed. “I am...sorry…” he said finally.

“There is no shame in being infertile. You are not defined by it, “Fenris said quietly. He gestured at the tunnel, the light from his brands diminishing. “Shall we head to camp? I do not think you wish to see our companions while you are so upset.”

Anders glanced at Fenris and nodded, straightening and heading down the tunnel. They walked together in silence, both lost in thought. As they approached the exit to the mine, Anders glanced at him, “Why bond at all if not to breed?”

Fenris gave a slight smile, “I had often thought the same thing. Why bind myself to an Omega if I could not breed them.” He stopped and turned to face Anders, “I have been a slave and a fugitive. But I have never been a partner. Should I ever bond, it would be for companionship.”

Anders blinked in surprise at the words, trying to ignore the small flare of warmth and interest. Mage hating, he kept reminding himself. The elf did not like mages. How long could any relationship last between them. Allowing himself to be pulled in by honeyed words now would only lead to heartache later. Anders truly believed that and felt the flare of agreement deep in his core.

Alphas were not to be trusted. He had learned that the hard way.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post dragon fight, Fenris finds himself giving in to the instinct to protect.
> 
> And Anders finds himself allowing it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the brief hiatus! Long prompt was long...but I am back to posting this. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait.

Fenris’ prediction of the Omegas was mostly correct. Merrill and Bethany claimed one tent, a good sized one in the middle of the half-moon of tents that made up the camp, laying bedrolls next to each other while whispering and giggling. Varric and Isabela had claimed the large tent next to the girls and Aveline had taken a small single on the other side. Fenris was invited to share with Hawke, an offer he agreed to because it made sense.

It wasn’t until he had set his bedroll in the tent that he realized Anders was not setting up with the other two Omegas. A quick look around showed him laying out his blanket in a small tent - the last one in the half-circle. It made him frown...certainly it wouldn’t be safe for Anders to sleep alone.

Anders had just settled on the blanket, groaning as he pulled off his boots, when he saw Fenris approach. Sighing, he looked up, a frown forming. “Yes?”

“You are by yourself. Should you not share with Merrill and Bethany? Or perhaps Aveline?” Fenris suggested, crouching down so he could look Anders in the face.

“My nightmares will keep them awake,” Anders explained. “Best to have me on the outskirts of the camp. It’ll help the rest of the group to get sleep.”

Fenris waffled. He had said he wouldn’t push, but he couldn’t just let Anders sleep alone. It was unsafe...though why, he couldn’t explain. A glance back at the group showed rations being pulled out and the group gathering around a fire that Hawke had started. He looked at the tent and then at the Omega. “I shall move my things here, then.”

Anders blinked and opened his mouth, head shaking as he tried to summon something past the panic starting to bubble up. “Absolutely not,” he finally managed to spit out.

“Anders,” Fenris kept his voice quiet. “It is unsafe for you to be alone, and you know it. There is room in the tent, even if it is small. It will be as last night.” He saw Anders start to stand and held out his hand to stop the mage. “I cannot help it. I apologize. The...urge...it is very strong.”

Anders snorted and settled back down. Pulling his legs up he gestured to the area next to him. “Fine. Can we try sitting first?”

“We can.” Fenris agreed, crawling into the tent and settling down next to the mage. A glance over at Anders showed him the mage staring straight ahead, nose twitching a little. Probably at his scent, he thought. He inhaled and smelled cinnamon and spice and it made him smile.

“What?” Anders rocked a little, trying to not be soothed by the smells coming from Fenris.

“You,” Fenris turned to face Anders and gave a wry smile. “Your scent. It is...warm.”

“Warm?” That made Anders roll his eyes.

The smile grew, “Well, I am not well versed in compliments other than the ones I told Danarius. I don’t think you’d enjoy them. They were all…”

Anders winced, “Right. You, ah, you smell like the forest. And lyrium.”

“That is how Danarius described it as well,” Fenris looked pensive for a moment. “It was a great annoyance to him that we were not compatible. He lamented it, in fact.”

Anders pondered what had just been shared, frowning at the implications of it all. He kept his eyes down, hands smoothing over his legs as he spoke, “Ah, I was not compatible with any of the templars, but when I was in solitary there were a few that...that thought they could…” his breathing hitched.

“You do not have to explain,” Fenris soothed, one hand reaching out to rest on Anders’ leg. He squeezed lightly, careful of his gauntlets, “Though it is good you told me.”

“The mages,” Anders kept his voice low, “We were nothing but toys to them.”

“Certainly it was only a few bad templar…” Fenris started, stopping when Anders shook his head vehemently. He watched the mage for a moment, his anger and fear of magic warring with his concern for the man. Exhaling, he let the tension drop from his shoulders. “We shall speak of this frequently, I believe.”

“You’re being awfully reasonable,” Anders said quietly. “When do you start ranting against magic?”

“Not tonight,” Fenris answer just as softly.

“Implying tomorrow?” Anders sighed and gave a huff.

“Tomorrow is soon enough to return to our bickering. Tonight, I want you safe,” Fenris answered honestly.

Anders gave another huff, “Fine. But one possessive move and I’m kicking you out.”

“Deal,” Fenris said. He crawled out of the tent and stood. “I’ll be back with my things.”

***

“Joining Anders?” Hawke’s voice was casual, eyes filled with something like jealousy.

“He is sleeping in the outer tent alone, Hawke. It is unsafe,” Fenris’ response was calm. “And before you ask, no, he will not move. He fears his nightmares will keep the camp awake. I do not mind dealing with them if it means maintaining safety.”

“He could sleep here,” Hawke was frowning, the thought of Anders having nightmares making him itch. “Maker…”

“He would not agree to that arrangement, and you know it. Two Alphas in one tent would be overwhelming. He barely agreed to just me.” Fenris glanced over at Hawke. “You were correct in your assessment of him. He has been abused.”

“Fenris,” Hawke started and then stopped. “Void take this jealousy. Yes, he has been. And if he’s agreed to you sleeping near him then you should. I...I am sorry.”

Fenris glanced out of the tent at the group eating. Anders was not there, and that made Fenris roll his eyes a bit. Merrill was laughing with Bethany, face happy, and it gave him an idea. “Why not go tell stories to Merrill...of your time in Ferelden?”

“You think she’d want to hear them?” Hawke perked up.

“I think she wishes to know more of you. Tell her. Think of funny stories, family stories. They will put her at ease. Do not hover or push. Swallow down the urge and let her come to you. She will. I see her looking at you when you are not watching,” Fenris watched as hope filled Hawke’s eyes. “Be gentle, Hawke.”

“Gentle. I can do this. I have some great stories about Calahad...my dog. Not...not the history lessons,” Hawke rubbed his neck sheepishly. “You should make sure Anders eats. You know him.”

“Mm, not yet. But I am beginning to.” Fenris checked his rations pouch and found plenty of food. Nodding to Hawke, he gathered his belongings and moved them across the clearing to Anders’ tent. There was a little catcalling from Isabela - well, until Hawke put a stop to it. Varric simply watched him, eyes curious and hand patting Bianca.

Fenris knew what that meant and gave Varric a solemn nod, one that had the dwarf smiling slightly.

He found Anders flushed and curled into a ball, the mage having heard Isabela.

“Ignore her. She enjoys the drama.” Fenris said with a sigh as he put down his pack and began unrolling his bedroll. The size of the tent meant they would have to sleep with their beds touching. It made Fenris’ ears twitch and pink.

“I’m fine.” Anders tried to straighten his hair, gave a grumble, and pulled out the tie. “I just don’t like to be the center of attention.”

Fenris watched the strawberry blond hair brush Anders’ chin, memories of how soft and smooth it was making his fingers twitch. Sitting down, he tried to focus, “Have you eaten?”

“I’m fine. Maker, you shoved so much food into me this morning.” Anders rolled his eyes, shaking his head when Fenris opened his pouch and started pulling out rations. “Andraste’s pearly ass, you’re going to do it again.”

“Indeed.” Fenris didn’t hide the little smile. “Eat, Anders. I will not have you starving.”

There was a mutinous moment where Anders crossed his arms and looked away...the moment ending when Fenris snorted with laughter. The amused response made Anders flush with embarrassment and grab at the jerky, biting into a piece and chewing viciously. Fenris just smiled and bit into his own jerky, content to watch the mage eat - even if it was angrily.

“If you think your tantrums and stubbornness is off putting, you would be incorrect.” Fenris remarked casually, taking some bread and nibbling at it. “I find that a willingness to push back makes for a better match.”

“What?” Anders choked.

“I approve of your attitude.” Fenris said again, hiding a smile as Anders gawked. “We would never be bored.”

“There is no we,” Anders said, eyes wide.

“Not yet,” Fenris agreed. “But I may change my mind.”

“Sweet Maker.” Anders thought about rolling from the tent and sleeping outside. But a glance at the elf had him catching the small smile. “Are you putting me on?”

“Not a bit.” Fenris handed some bread to Anders. “It is too soon at any rate. But you should know, your attitude is highly attractive. I like a challenge, and you are presenting me with one.”

“So should I start simpering?” Anders shoved the bread into his mouth.

“I would not mind that either.” Fenris watched Anders cheeks flame and figured he’d teased the mage enough. “I apologize, Anders. I could not resist the teasing.”

Anders glanced at the Alpha, a thoughtful look forming on his face. Long eyelashes fluttered over his honey eyes and pink tinged his cheeks. Fenris blinked as Anders tipped his head to the side, a half smile forming on his lips. “Perhaps,” his voice came out husky. “Perhaps I liked the teasing.”

Fenris’ ears reddened and for a moment both men stared at each other, and then Anders snorted, laughter bubbling up. Fenris coughed, his shoulders shaking, a laugh exploding from him. “Fasta vass, talk about a tease,” his voice was rough from the laughter.

“Sorry, sorry,” chortled Anders. “I couldn’t resist.”

“I call us even.” Fenris shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Now eat at least one more piece of jerky.”

“Yes oh great and powerful Alpha,” Anders intoned dramatically, nabbing one more piece of jerky and a slice of bread. He waggled his eyebrows as he ate, making Fenris shake his head before stowing away the last of the food and passing over his water skin.

The amusement looked good on the mage, Fenris decided. And he felt light and relaxed and...content. He had made his mage laugh and eat. The realization made him glance over at Anders. His mage...the words twirled around in his brain. Too soon, he decided. Too soon to declare anything...though perhaps he would visit the mage after this trip. Bring him food...talk to him. If they could bridge their differences perhaps...perhaps he could take that next step and make Anders his.

***

The sound of whimpering had Fenris lifting his head and glancing over. Anders was curled in a ball, blanket clutched to his chest, and whining softly in his sleep. Fenris let his head drop and closed his eyes, trying to will himself back to sleep. He hadn’t been asleep but maybe thirty minutes, having just finished watch, and now the mage was having a nightmare.

“Please...please...please…” Anders whimpered in his sleep. “No...nonono...I’ll be good. Please…” the begging kept up, Anders’ voice breaking.

Fenris gave a quiet huff and wiggled closer, wrapping himself around the blanket-wrapped mage. When that did nothing to stop the whimpers, he started unwrapping the blanket, finally uncovering the shaking mage. Slowly and gently, hoping to not wake the man, he got Anders to roll over and curl against his chest.

Anders inhaled, twitched lightly in his sleep, and then pressed his face against Fenris’ neck. Warm breath wafted over Fenris’ skin, and the mage’s scent filled his nose. It was, in a way, soothing. Holding his mage, keeping him safe...it spoke to every instinct buried inside Fenris. Protect, comfort, soothe...his Omega. His.

He was too tired to fight the instincts and instead pulled the blanket up and over both of them, giving in to the need to cuddle the mage a hair closer. Wiggling a bit to get more comfortable, Fenris let his eyes drift closed, content now.

When he next opened his eyes, the sun was starting to come up and the camp was slowly waking. Next to him, Anders stirred, eyes blinking blearily and hands flexing lightly against Fenris’ side. He watched with interest as the mage slowly realized he was pressed against him, head pillowed on the Alpha’s shoulder.

“Fenris?” Anders’ voice was rough with sleep and a hint of fear.

“Hush,” Fenris whispered. “You had a nightmare and would not wake. I tried keeping the cover between us but it did not help.”

Anders twitched, body held taut, “I...I apologize.”

“You were begging,” Fenris’ voice rumbled in his chest, the vibrations making Anders relax.

“It was,” A frown marred Anders’ face. “Solitary.”

“Where you spent a year, correct?” Fenris fought against the urge to run his hands over the mage’s back. “What happened there?”

“I…” Anders hesitated and then sighed, “It was solitary. Dark, lonely...quiet. For a year.”

Fenris gave in and brushed a lock of hair back from Anders’ face, “There was more.”

“The templars,” Anders’ voice dropped to a whisper. “They would...visit. I...I wanted them to. I was so alone. Anything to keep them there, anything so I could hear a voice or feel touch…”

Fenris felt ill, the mage’s words painting a picture more vivid than his put-together puzzle pieces. Understanding slotted in with the pieces and he felt...for a mage...he felt sorrow and anger.

“I understand. My Master...he...he was a magister. He enjoyed seeing me on my knees.” The memories made Fenris ill.

“I’m sorry,” Anders sat up with the words, swallowing and looking out at the camp. “That’s...that’s horrible. Did he…”

“Yes.” Fenris watched Anders, saw the shiver in his shoulders.

“Is that why you curse us, then? Why you hate magic?” Anders kept his eyes on the waking camp, away from the Alpha who had held him as he slept.

“I...yes. It is where my hate stems from,” Fenris admitted.

“I can’t be with...you understand, yes? You should find a non-mage Omega. Forget me,” Anders murmured. “I can handle myself.”

“I do not wish a non-mage Omega. I do not wish,” he said quickly, seeing Anders open his mouth, “to pursue anybody at the moment. I simply wish to get to know you better.”

“And that includes late-night cuddles?” Anders turned to look at Fenris, his eyebrow cocked.

“Let us say I required sleep, and it was the easiest way to achieve that.” Fenris gave a half smile and sat up.

Smoothing a hand over the blanket, Anders seemed to be having an internal argument, one that ended with him huffing softly. “Thank you,” the words were low, quiet, nearly unintelligible.

Fenris reached out and cupped his cheek, turning his face so they could see each other. “What?”

“I said thank you.” Anders rolled his eyes a little even as he rubbed his cheek gently against Fenris’ fingers.

“You are welcome. Let us get some breakfast and break camp. I think we all would prefer to return to Kirkwall today.” Fenris said, even as fingers flexed lightly against Anders’ cheek. A soft inhale of breath had his eyes dropping to the mage’s lips, and he rocked forward, hovered, and then rocked back, a small smile on his lips. He scooted away from Anders and pulled over the pouch of rations. Anders watched with wide eyes as jerky was pulled from the bag and offered to him.

It said a lot about Anders’ mental state that he took the jerky without arguing, eating it, and accepting more. As he chewed, his mind swirled around the almost kiss, the feeling of Fenris’ fingers on his skin, and the surge of want that had speared him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talk of Heats, kissing, and other things...
> 
> It's a one step forward that neither of them are ready to admit to type of chapter.

“So I told the guy that the next time somebody comes at him with a dagger, dodge - don’t punch. And the guy told me that next time he’d just release his mabari and watch the Coterie fucker piss his pants. And I gotta tell you, Varric. If this guy has a mabari, then I’m the King of Ferelden.” Anders took a drink of cider and shook his head. “Nearly sliced his damn hand off grabbing for the pointy end of the dagger.”

“Blondie, I never can tell if you’re pulling my leg or telling the truth.” Varric raised his mug of ale and took a deep drink. “When you going to tell me some of your Warden stories?”

“I’ll need something stronger than cider to tell you those. I don’t think there’s any good Warden stories. Well...I guess all of my stories of Pounce are pretty tame.” Anders grinned. “But seriously. You want to hear about the darkspawn and the taint and Blackmarsh?”

“I want to hear about that bone dragon you said you fought.” Varric took another drink.

“I...ew. That’s Blackmarsh,” Anders groused.

“Great name, by the way. Really sets the mood.” Varric laughed as Anders grumbled. “So, seen Broody recently?”

That garnered a snort from Anders. “He was down this morning with a bag of food. Pointedly watched me eat some of it, told me to not hand it all out, and left.” Anders gave Varric a little grin. “I gave it all away.”

“You’re terrible. And don’t think he doesn’t know. Because he does.”

“Who’s going to tell him? You?” Anders raised an eyebrow.

“He does not need to tell me. I already figured you would give it away, fool mage.” Fenris stepped into Varric’s suite of rooms and gave Anders a small smile. “I wondered how long you would wait till I left, so I found a place to watch. By my count, twenty minutes.”

“You watched me?” Anders took a deep drink of cider to keep from yelling.

Fenris answered with a toothy smile, a smile that had Anders flushing. “Why are you here? It is not dinner time, nor is it a card night.”

“Maybe I just wanted to visit my friend?” Anders kept his eyes on his cider.

Fenris hummed and then raised an eyebrow when Merrill came rushing in, nearly clipping him with her staff.

“Oh! Lethallin. I hope you weren’t waiting long for me. I admit it; I got lost. I’m so glad you said you’d meet me here instead of your clinic. I still can’t figure out how to get to Darktown alone," her words were said on a rush of air. “Fenris! Goodness! I didn’t hit you with my staff, did I? I am so sorry. I’m late to meet with Anders and I wasn’t watching and...oh...I’m babbling. I’m sorry.”

“Relax.” Fenris rounded his shoulders and slowly moved to a chair. “I am not here to spy on anybody. Well, on Anders...not you.”

“Oh! Are you two...no. No, he would have said. Still, it’s nice you watch out for him.” Merrill patted Fenris’ shoulder before flitting to Anders’ side. “So? I’m sorry to ask...I should know how to make this myself. And I do. But I…”

“Merrill, I’d hate to think of you trying to get to where the herbs grow. You’d get picked up by slavers. Here, it’s no trouble. I keep a batch in the clinic for my patients. You aren’t the only Omega I tend to.” Anders passed a bottle to her, giving her a gentle smile. “I feel better knowing you aren’t trying to make this yourself.”

“Thank you! Oh...and…” Merrill glanced at Fenris and gave a nervous laugh. “Hawke…”

“It’s nobody’s business. You’re my patient, and I’m your healer. What you tell me stays with me, ok?” Anders stood and draped an arm around her shoulders. “If you have any problems, tell Varric, and he’ll get me immediately. Understand?”

“I’ve never gone through this alone.” Merrill’s eyes grew sad.

“How long do you have?” Anders kept his arm around her and gently rubbed her shoulder.

“A week. Oh. I’m a little anxious. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to be a bother.” Merrill gazed up at Anders, her eyes liquid with worry.

“Tell you what. Next week, pack what you’ll need and come down to the clinic. It won’t bother me to have you in the back, and I can keep an eye on you. If everything goes well, you’ll be set for your next one. Alright? I’ll come get you in a week. I promise.” Anders squeezed her lightly and stepped away.

“You would...you would do that for me?” Merrill lit up.

“I’ll need to keep the clinic open but of course. Now go on. Or do you need help back to the Alienage?” Anders smiled slightly.

“I got this.” Isabela peeked in. “Anders, you’re a dear. I wouldn’t know where to start. You get what you need, Kitten?"

“I did, Izzy.” Merrill waved the bottle at her.

“Good. Now come on, I’ll walk you home and how about I escort you to Anders’ a day early? Will that work, Anders?” Isabela beamed at him.

“Sounds great. See you both at card night?” Anders rocked on his feet, flushing when Isabela winked at him.

Fenris had remained quiet during the exchange. As soon as their friends finished saying goodbye and left, he stood and moved to Anders. “Does Hawke know you are giving Merrill suppressants?”

“None of his damn business. They aren’t bonded. They aren’t even courting.” Anders moved away from Fenris. “She’s worried he’ll press her if he knows. She came to me for aid, and I gave it to her. She’s never had to go through a heat alone. It’s a little overwhelming the first time. Even on the suppressant.”

“And you know what it’s like to be alone?” Fenris took a slow step forward, watching Anders closely.

“I...yes. I do.” Anders glanced at Varric, who stood.

“I’m going down to get another ale. Want anything you two?” Varric ambled by the men, head cocked.

“No thank you.” Fenris murmured, taking another step closer to the mage.

“I’m...I’m good. Thank you, Varric.” Anders held his ground, tipping his chin up.

“Well, I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t tear up the place.” Varric slapped Anders’ on the back as he left, and the mage grumbled.

“When is your next heat, Anders?” Fenris had moved closer, close enough for him to reach out and nab Anders if he wanted. He didn’t, just tilted his head and offered a small smile. “Is it soon?”

Anders swallowed. Fenris’ smell had gotten stronger, muskier. Hands shaking slightly, he straightened his coat and fought to not break eye contact. “Ahh...no...no, I had one about a month ago.”

“And your next one?” Fenris dared another step, putting him right up against Anders. “Will you take a suppressant? Will you tell me when it happens?”

“Why?” The word was whispered, fear making his throat close up.

“So I can protect you.” Fenris saw the fear in Anders’ eyes, the way his entire body had stiffened, and reached out before he could stop himself - pulling the mage to him. “Relax. I would not force you.”

“I…” Anders shook and found himself curling against Fenris, pushing his face against the Alpha’s neck. Forest and lyrium...the smell soothed him. He wanted to curse the elf, wanted to cling. A whimper escaped him.

“Shh.I have pushed you. I apologize.” Fenris brushed his hand over Anders’ back. “Let us sit. Come...sit with me. We will just sit.”

Nodding, Anders followed Fenris back to the table, collapsing onto a chair. Fenris sat next to him, turning so he could look at Anders. “Mage…”

“Yes?” Anders glanced at him.

“I swear to you. I will never take. I will always ask. We may not see eye to eye on the mages, but I will not abuse you,” Fenris promised.

“How do I know you won’t go back on that promise? You think magic is evil. I’m a mage, Fenris. You think what I am is...evil. Wrong.” Anders covered his face with his hands, willing himself to calm down.

“Give me time, mage. Allow me to...I am not free. I am not a free man.” Fenris looked pensive. “It is hard to move past my thoughts on magic when Danarius still haunts me.”

Both men seemed to focus on their hands, silence falling. Where once there had been tension, now there was just thoughtful quiet. Anders smoothed a hand over his thigh, tapping lightly on his knee. “So…” The glance over at Fenris was quick. “He was pretty bad.”

“That may be an understatement.” The words were dry, though not harsh.

“And do you really not have any memories from before?” Anders kept his eyes down on his tapping fingers.

“The first things I can remember are the pain of the brands, my training, Danarius.” Fenris grimaced. “I was his prized slave. An Alpha with superior fighting abilities, yet completely devoted.”

“Completely?” Anders glanced back at Fenris, this time not looking away.

“Utterly. Even when he...well, even at the worst, I was devoted.” Fenris frowned. “I knew no other life. It sickens me to think how well he had me cowed.”

Chewing on his lip, Anders dropped his eyes again. “I’m sorry. For what happened to you. Tevinter...slavery….it’s an injustice.”

“I admit to being surprised.” Fenris leaned forward, trying to catch Anders’ gaze. “I would have thought you supported mages in power.”

“I just desire freedom. I just want to live safely knowing that I won’t be dragged back to the Circle.” Anders sighed, glancing back at Fenris and flushing when their eyes connected. “I just...I just want to live my life without being told I’m a sin.”

The hand that reached out was gentle, even with the gauntlets. Fingers tangled in blonde hair and drew Anders closer. Anders' breath hitched in his throat, and he whimpered, “Please.”

“Please?” Their lips brushed each other, tantalizingly close to a kiss.

“Don’t hurt me,” the words were a whispered plea. “Don’t…”

“May I kiss you?” Fenris asked, fingers toying with Anders’ soft hair. “Just a kiss.”

“Why?” They were sharing breath, their smells entwining the longer they stayed so close. Anders inhaled and shivered as warmth blossomed.

“I need to know.” Fenris seemed to talking more to himself. “Just one taste, to know if...if I am imagining it or not.”

Swallowing, Anders exhaled. “One...one kiss. Then you’ll let me go?”

“I am not holding you here, Anders. You are free to say no to this. I swear I will leave if you do.” Fenris slid his hand down to the back of Anders’ neck, the gauntlets scraping lightly over pale skin. “If you say yes...we will need to talk. Later. Talk later...about...this.”

“I’m not ready…” Anders protested, though did not pull away.

“Talk only,” Fenris promised. “May I kiss you?”

It was the question that did it, that convinced Anders to breathe out the word “yes.” A single word whispered between them before lips were pressed to lips - a question asked in the tightening of a hand against the back of a neck, in the gentle swipe of a tongue. A question answered when Anders moaned lightly and opened his lips, pressing into the kiss and burying one hand in white hair.

Joy surged through Fenris as he tasted Anders - joy and the feeling of rightness. The little breathy moans were beautiful music, music for him and him alone. The longer the kiss went on, the more certain he was that this was something worth pursuing. And when Anders allowed himself to be dragged forward and draped over Fenris’ lap, the possessive happiness was almost overwhelming.

They broke apart, Anders finding himself straddling Fenris’ lap and pressed to him. A flush surged up his neck at his position, at the feeling of of Fenris’ erection pressed to his ass, at the realization that he wanted to feel it. “I…” He couldn’t, quite, form words.

“Will you allow me to bring you food tomorrow, Anders?” Fenris asked, nuzzling lightly at his neck. “Will you allow me that?”

“Yes.” Anders tilted his head to the side and shivered at the press of lips. “Fenris…”

“Mm, you will need to move in a moment. Neither of us are ready for what would happen if you keep squirming on my lap.” Fenris’ voice was filled with amusement.

“Sorry!” Anders moved to leap up and found himself held instead. “Fenris!”

“Hush, mage. Just...do not squirm so.” Fenris leaned back, admiring the Anders’ swollen lips and pinked cheeks. “We will go slow. We are not courting. We are getting to know each other.”

“And kissing…” Anders said wryly.

“And kissing,” agreed Fenris, leaning up to capture Anders’ lips again. His hand had just closed over Anders’ hip, had just started to pull him in even closer, when the sound of a throat clearing filled the room.

“I can come back,” Varric said from the doorway. “But I gotta say, I don’t want you two to move to my bed.”

Fenris growled, something low and hungry. “Varric, you have terrible timing.”

“Sorry Broody. I gave you two plenty of time. Didn’t expect to find you both...canoodling...in my rooms.” Varric seemed to hesitate. “Blondie, you alright?”

Anders was busy trying to squeeze into a ball against Fenris’ chest. His muffled, “yes”, carried across the room and had Varric chuckling.

“Well, how about I give you two five minutes to compose yourselves. But only five minutes. I’ll be back.” There was a hum and the sound of a door closing.

Fenris tightened his arms around Anders, waiting for the mage to try to escape, and blinked in surprise when instead of running, he began laughing. “Mage...Anders? What is so funny?”

“It’s...it’s like the Circle all over again. Maker. Every time you think you have a moment, somebody pops in and interrupts.” Anders sniggered. “Can’t tell you the amount of times I got caught in the herb pantry.”

“Frequently?” Guessed Fenris.

“Hah. And sometimes it was other couples wanting to use the pantry themselves.” Anders giggled. His face was bright and open, eyes shining with amusement. Fenris’ breath caught at the wide smile. “What?”

“I like seeing you smile.” Fenris’ ears pinked.

Anders flushed. “Ah…”

“I suppose we should get up.” Fenris squeezed Anders’ hip.

“I...yes. We probably should.” Anders went to stand, stopping when Fenris squeezed his hip again.

“Anders.” Fenris’ ears were flaming red. “I have never...what I mean to say is, I do not know if I am ready…” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “This is as much a surprise to me as it is to you. I...we both have a lot to work through, I know that. Still, you would be worth the trouble.”

“Even though…” Anders gave a shy smile.

“You would be worth the trouble, mage,” Fenris said again, following it up with a chaste kiss to the lips. “Now up. We will behave in Varric’s rooms.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris makes a decision and Anders sets rules.

“Anders, there’s an elf here with food…” Marta, his sometimes assistant was standing next to him tugging lightly at one coat sleeve. “An Alpha,” she whispered.

Anders was elbow-deep in blood, trying to heal a wide stomach wound. The patient, a member of one of the smaller gangs, was blissfully asleep - a blessing considering Anders was holding his intestines inside of him while reconstructing torn muscle and tissue.

“Anders…” Marta started again, giving a squeak when she found said elf standing next to her.

“I shall wait by his table. He is obviously busy.” Fenris nodded at Marta. “I am Fenris.”

“Marta.” She straightened. “You aren’t here to cause trouble are you?”

“I am here to bring him food and guard his clinic.” Fenris tilted his head. She was a Beta, obviously protective, and a little nervous. “I have hot rolls. Would you care for one?”

The offer of food perked her up. “I...would. Thank you, Ser.”

“Please, just call me Fenris.” He rounded his shoulders and slunk to the crate his mage sat on.

“Fenris,” Marta repeated, accepting a roll. “Thank you for bringing him food. Maybe you can get him to actually eat it instead of giving it away.”

“I can try, though he takes offense to my nagging.” The wry smile made Marta chuckle.

“He is a stubborn one, to be sure. But when you’re an apostate...well. You need a bit of back bone to stay away from the templars,” Marta said in between bites. “And then there are the Alphas who think they can just take and take and take.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow at her. “Excuse me?”

“Not you. No, but we get some in here that think it alright to proposition him. Luckily, Anders knows how to handle himself. It’s been a close thing, though. Some of the rougher types don’t really understand a good old-fashioned no.” Marta finished her roll and brushed her hands off. “Course, they aren’t going to the templars. Oh no. We watch our own down here.”

Fenris turned thoughtful eyes to Anders. “How often do raids happen?”

“Not as often as you think.” Marta shrugged. “But often enough.”

Fenris watched as Anders stepped back from his patient, arms dropping to hang listlessly at his sides. The patient was breathing easy, body healed. Anders was pale and shaking. He swayed and started a slow slide to the ground.

“Healed himself right to the edge again.” Marta leapt to catch him and was pushed to the side by Fenris.

“Don’t fuss.” Anders batted at Fenris’ hands. “You’re fussing.”

“You are on the ground, pale, and shaking. Where is your bed? You need to eat and rest.” Fenris ignored the feeble hand slaps and lifted Anders.

“He sleeps behind that curtain.” Marta pointed. “I’ll put the lantern out. He’s been healing since before dawn anyway.”

“Thank you,” Fenris said. “I will tend to him.”

“I bet you will.” Her voice suggested many things. “Glad to see he’s finally got an Alpha looking out for him.”

“Marta,” Anders groused. “Don’t...oh bother. There she goes.”

“Your patient is sleeping and healed. You can afford to rest,” Fenris said as he walked through the curtained opening into a tiny alcove. He blinked at the cot pushed against the wall and the single crate holding a candle.

“Maker, just put me down.” Anders groused, clinging to Fenris’ shoulders like he was afraid he would be dropped.

“Where is your bed?” Fenris was looking for something...something other than just a cot with a threadbare blanket.

“Right there.” Anders huffed as he pointed. “Going to rub it in?”

Fenris seemed to ponder the cot, his face thoughtful. A slight smile twisted his lips and he put Anders down carefully. “We will go to my place.”

“What? No! No. I’m not...no. What?” Anders babbled.

“I will draw you a bath and you will rest.” Fenris seemed to have made up his mind, taking the two steps needed to reach the small bag on the floor next to the cot. “These are your things, yes?”

“Yes.” Anders was eyeing Fenris with misgivings.

“Good. Come then. We will go someplace you can actually rest.” Fenris turned, stopping when Anders crossed his arms over his chest.

“I have a patient out there that I just healed. I can’t leave him. Period. And just because we...just because you and I…” Anders’ rant ran out of steam, a flush filling his cheeks.

“I had not thought of your patient. Then we will stay, and this evening you will return with me instead.” Fenris carefully put the sack back on the ground. His head tilted, a smile blossoming. “You speak of the kissing.”

Anders shuffled. “Maybe.”

The chuckle was warm. Fenris took a step towards Anders. “I want to kiss you again.”

“I…” Anders swallowed.

“May I?” Fenris took another step, his chest brushing Anders’. “May I hold you while you rest?”

“Ahh…” Anders glanced around the tiny alcove, fingers toying with a coat buckle. “Yes.”

“To which?” The question was asked gently. “What are you saying yes to, Anders?”

“To both,” the words were whispered.

“Are you sure?” Fenris kept his hands at his side, despite the desire to hold.

Swaying, Anders closed his eyes and allowed himself to lean against Fenris. Relaxing, he bent down and nuzzled his face into the join of neck and shoulder. “I am. I’m just nervous. I’ve never been with an Alpha willingly.”

“I guessed,” Fenris admitted. “Let me take off my armor. Why don’t you remove your coat and boots?”

Flushing, Anders straightened and moved away, fumbling with the buckles on his coat. Shrugging off the heavy garment, he sat on the edge of his cot and slowly unwound bandages and unlaced cracking leather. He winced a bit at the hole in one sock and glanced at Fenris - who just smiled.

“Not that I want to encourage you to...because I don’t, but why aren’t you pushing?” Anders plucked at his tunic, tugging at the greying fabric.

“Because I have been forced. Because forcing an Omega that I am compatible with goes against everything I feel. Because I see the fear in your eyes, and I can’t bear to add to it.” Fenris’ voice was quiet. “I will lay against the wall.”

“Not really enough room…” Anders started, watching as Fenris lay down on his back and held out an arm. Chewing on his lower lip, he slowly curled against Fenris’ side.

Silence filled the room as both men relaxed, Anders sinking into the cuddle and Fenris shifting to face him. Draping his other arm over Anders, Fenris slowly entwined their legs. “Anders…” he breathed out.

“Yes?” Anders’ breath hitched.

The smile that spread across Fenris’ face was open and bright. “I did not think this would make me so happy.”

Anders pressed closer and hummed. “It is surprisingly pleasant.”

The smile turned wicked, and Fenris sat up, shifting them so that Anders was lying down and he was on top. They were pressed together from chest to hips, and Fenris took a moment to brush back strawberry-gold hair and hum appreciatively at the way they fit.

“Fenris…” voice faint, Anders swallowed and stiffened.

“Do I need to move?” The quicksilver flash of fear had Fenris levering up on one arm.

Again, the question - being asked if he was fine, being asked for permission to continue - put Anders’ at ease. “I was just surprised, is all. You’re heavier than you look.”

“And you are too slender. I will need to make sure you eat.” Fenris grinned before nuzzling down Anders’ neck and licking lightly over his pulse. The sharp inhale encouraged him to do it again, tongue dragging up Anders’ neck to his ear. A quick nip and Fenris was pulling back, angling his head, and capturing Anders’ lips.

Lips that opened to him - the kiss turning from a quick sip to a longer taste. Teeth nipped at Fenris’ lips and his hips thrust forward before he could stop himself. Gasping, Anders bucked up, eyes widening and then closing as he rolled his hips again.

“Anders, I am sorry,” Fenris murmured. “Continuing this is a bad idea.”

“I can’t…” Anders panted. His scent thickened, turned sweeter and more intoxicating. His hips gave another roll and he panted softly. "What is this?”

“Mating urge,” Fenris whispered. “Shh, it will pass.”

“I…” Anders whimpered, body writhing. “I’ve never felt this outside of a Heat.”

Fenris sighed and pressed his hips firmly down. Anders bucked up, breathing growing erratic. “Anders, I will not take you. No matter what your body says, you are not ready. This happens with compatible couples. I have seen it - the mating urge can take over if you are not careful.”

The only response from Anders was a moan and his hands clutching at Fenris. “Please,” he whimpered.

“Shh.” Fenris breathed against Anders. Gripping his mage’s hips tightly, he held them down and immobile. “Relax. Breathe for me.”

Closing his eyes, Anders fought to regain control. His body shuddered and then relaxed, a soft blue glow edging his skin. “I’m...I’m so sorry.”

“No.” Fenris shook his head. “I am. I should not have put you in this situation.” He went to slide off of Anders and found himself held.

“Please don’t leave me. Please. Just...just stay. I’m tired now and it feels good. You being near keeps the nightmares away.” Anders exhaled. “Please?”

Fenris smiled. His mage, asking him to help. Warmth spread through him, and he settled back against Anders. “I will stay. Sleep. I promise you will be safe. I swear it.”

***

A groan woke Fenris. They had shifted while sleeping so that he was curled around Anders, the mage’s body scrunched into a ball. The groan sounded again and Fenris slid from the cot as quietly as possible, slipping to the curtain and peeking out.

The patient was sitting up, blinking blearily around and stretching. Every stretch resulted in another groan.

“You are awake, then?” Fenris padded to the man and squinted at him, eyes still bleary from sleep.

“Yep. And other than the sore back from sleeping on that cot, I feel great. Here, I’m guessing the healer is out or asleep. If he was, he wouldn’t take this but you...you give them to him. Alright?” A few silvers were pressed into Fenris’ hand. “It ain’t much but it’s all got to give. Better than nothing, right? He saved my life. I’ll tell the guys to lay off this section of Darktown. He won’t get no trouble from my boys.”

Fenris just nodded, clutching the silver and watching the man stagger to the clinic doors, fumble with the locks, and then stagger out. A sound behind him had him spinning, brands flashing. It was Anders, rubbing at his eyes and swaying.

“What?” Anders’ voice was rough from sleep.

“Your patient woke up, gave me some silver, and then left. He said thanks.” Fenris held out the coin.

“Maker.” Anders groaned. “I was actually sleeping for once. Now I’m not.”

Strawberry-blond hair was mussed, some pieces sticking out while others were smooshed flat. There was a crease running down Anders’ cheek - probably from the blanket. Fenris tried to swallow the grin and couldn’t. “I think we should go to my place. Bathe, eat…” His eyes grew heated at the thought of what to do after. “Kiss.”

Anders opened his mouth and closed it, face flushing. “About earlier.”

“You do not need to apologize.” Fenris waved a hand in the air while slowly walking to him.

“No. I mean, no I do. Because I...I almost…” Anders swallowed as Fenris wrapped an arm around his waist. “Fenris…”

“Perhaps I have been mistaken,” Fenris murmured. “Perhaps I have been overthinking things.”

“What?” The word exploded from Anders as he was dragged against the elf.

“You feel so good in my arms, Anders. Your taste...it haunts me.” Fenris pressed himself fully against his mage. “I wish to know if I may start courting.”

“I’m still a mage,” Anders pointed out. “And possessed...did...did I tell you?”

“I know." Fenris backed Anders into his little alcove. “You are a mage, yes. But mine.”

“Er...is this that mating urge thing again?” The backs of Anders’ knees hit the cot and he went down. “We don’t really know each other.”

“I…” Anders wide eyes gazed up at him and something in Fenris’ belly clenched. “I am sorry. I should go and give you space.” He took a step back, glancing around for his armor.

“Fenris...wait.” Anders grabbed for his arm, holding on. “Wait.”

“I pushed. I did not mean to, Anders.” Fenris kept his gaze averted. “The urges do not just affect the Omega. They affect the Alpha as well. I…”

“I didn’t necessarily say no.” Anders tugged on Fenris’ arm. “I’m just asking for time to get to know each other.”

“Do I disgust you?” The words made Anders blink in surprise. “My markings...my past... do they disgust you?”

“The only thing that worries me is your view on mages.” Anders dropped his hand only to grasp Fenris’ hip and pull him closer. “I worry that you will come to hate me.”

“You do not wish for a mate?” Fenris allowed himself to be moved, smiled a little when Anders tilted forward to press his face against Fenris’ stomach.

“A mage...no. We are not mated in the Circle. We are kept on suppressants and are supposed to be moved if we are compatible with a templar.”

“Supposed to be?” Fenris’ fingers twitched. Slowly, he slid them into Anders’ hair, smoothing it back.

“The Chantry overlooks a lot.” Anders rubbed his cheek lightly over Fenris’ tunic. “Can we set boundaries? Rules?”

“Of course.” Hope soared in Fenris’ heart.

“If I say no or stop, you stop," Anders started. “You will not bother me over my Heat cycle. If we disagree, you will not hit me.”

Fenris’ hand stilled. “I can live with those rules. You will allow me to bring you food. You will tell me if I am pushing too hard. You will spend two nights a week with me...so I know that you get sleep.”

Anders frowned. His eyes grew distant, as if he was having an internal conversation. Shaking his head, he sighed. “Fine. But you don’t ask me about Terri or the Underground. Period. I will tell you when I am ready.”

“But you will tell me, eventually?”

“If we can work this out, yes. I suppose I will.” Anders bit his lip. “You will not call me abomination or call Justice a demon.”

That made Fenris pause. “I will not call you abomination but…”

“He is a Spirit, not a demon. If you can’t do this, then we end it.” Anders leaned back, face serious. “He’s a part of me. You either accept all of me or none of me.”

Fenris gazed at Anders and seriously thought about what was being asked of him. He watched a hint of sadness enter Anders’ eyes and that seemed to make up his mind. “Fine. But you do not hide him from me. No blood magic. No demons. No summonings. My brands are not to be drawn upon and you will always ask permission before casting magic on me.”

“Fair enough,” Anders agreed.

Fenris tilted his head, leaned down, and smiled. “And you will come home with me now?”

“Er...yes?” Anders flushed. “Yes.”

Chuckling, Fenris brushed his lips lightly over Anders’ and then stood. “Good. I could use a bath. And so could you.”

“Hey now. I don’t smell. Bossy Alpha.” Anders grumbled as he stood. Despite the grumbling, a small smile graced his lips.

“You like me bossy,” Fenris tossed at him before walking through the curtained opening. Anders grabbed his pack of things and gave a hum, following Fenris and most definitely not arguing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night at Fenris' mansion: sharing, laughter...my mage...

“I apologize for the corpses.” Fenris and Anders were standing just inside the mansion’s entry.

“I don’t see any corpses yet, but there is an impressive number of mushrooms in that corner.” Anders had a bemused smile on his face.

“Yes, well. I apologize for the mushrooms as well. And, ah, the glass.” Fenris cleared his throat and headed through double doors that led to a wide open space.

There were, indeed, corpses in that room. And more mushrooms. And a pile of what appeared to be robes. Anders stopped at the robes and tilted his head, the bemused smile growing wider. “Were these Danarius’?”

“Indeed. I had thought to burn them but…” Fenris huffed. “They smoked me out of my room. So now they live here...with the corpses.”

“It’s quite the decorating scheme.” Anders rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You do realize that if we mate I will have to live here, yes?”

“Your point is?” Fenris’ eyes glittered in the gloom.

“I’d want to clean.” Anders glanced around. “Yes...clean and possibly demolish.”

Fenris slowly blinked, his eyes catching the rays of sunlight filtering through the dirty windows and lighting up. Slowly, a smile curled up his face. A satisfied, happy smile. A smile that seemed to reach out and draw Anders in.

“What?”

“You have brought up mating.” Fenris gave a little growl, the sound nearly a purr. “It is progress.”

“It doesn’t mean anything. I...you…” Anders drew himself up to his full height and frowned. “I want a bath.”

“Mm. Me as well. I would suggest we bathe together, but we are not ready for that level of intimacy yet.” The smile softened. “Come Anders. I will show you the bathing room and find clean clothes for you to wear.”

Anders seemed to be mumbling under his breath as he carefully followed Fenris up the stairs. The mumbling continued down the hall and into the bathing room where Fenris stopped and turned to look at Anders - one eyebrow raised. Anders came to a halt and flushed.

“You are muttering.”

“Yes, well. I...didn’t mean. It was just a slip...there is no way…” Anders huffed. “I’m not in the market for a mate.”

Fenris turned back around, making sure the drain plug was in the tub before starting to fill it from the pump. He could hear Anders shuffling behind him, the mage’s movements nervous sounding. He didn’t turn, instead working the pump and watching the water fill the tub.

“Do you know how I escaped Danarius?” His question had Anders quieting.

“Ah...no. No. If you told Hawke, he never shared.” Anders voice was curious, if cautious.

“We were in Seheron and there had been an attack by the Qunari. The Magisters were losing and began to flee via ship. Danarius wanted to bring me with him, but the ship captain refused - Magisters and Apprentices and immediate family only. No slaves. He had to leave me. I fled the fight - injured.” Fenris stopped pumping, eyes on the still rippling water. “Fog warriors found me.”

“What happened?” The question was quiet, tentative.

“They took me in, nursed me back to health, and then allowed me to stay. They showed me what freedom was. They...they told me I was worthy of it. Danarius returned eventually and tried to take me from them. They fought and Danarius...he...ordered me to kill them.” Fenris clutched the side of the tub, fingers going white.

“Did you?”

“I did. And when I looked around at what I had done, I...I fled. Danarius had been injured and was unable to follow. I have been running ever since. For three years I have hidden, fled...fought.” Fenris released the tub and moved to Anders and gripped his shoulders. “My only thoughts have been survival. And then...you...I saw you. I smelled you. A mage.”

“Fenris, I…” Anders opened his mouth, closing it when Fenris shook his head.

“You misunderstand. I do not tell you this to make you feel pity or to try to sway your emotions. I tell you so that you will understand that up until now, I have never had a single thought of settling down. And hearing you say the word mate...hearing that maybe…” Fenris released Anders and shrugged. “It is like hearing the Fog Warriors tell me that I am worthy to be free.”

Anders fidgeted with the buckles on his coat, face pensive. Finally, he met Fenris’ eyes and offered a slight smile. “It must be hard to live with that memory.”

“I carry the guilt with me every waking moment.” Fenris said on a sigh. “The tub is full. I will be back with clothing for you.”

“May I heat the water?” Anders wiggled his fingers.

“You may. You may heat mine as well...I know you will ask.” Fenris stepped back and then headed for the door.

“Fenris,” Anders called.

“Yes, mage?”

“What you did...what happened with the Fog Warriors. The person you should blame is Danarius.” Anders seemed to hesitate. “You running...living free...that honors their memories and spits on him.”

Fenris glanced back at Anders and nodded, eyes somber. He watched as Anders slid his hand into the tub, felt the tug on his brands as the water was heated. The wrist that was pulled from the tub was slender, pale, fragile. The water shimmered in the light, and Fenris saw that his wrist wasn’t smooth - scars marred the delicate skin. They made him hesitate, swallow, and then step out of the room to give Anders privacy.

But the vision of those scars stayed with him as he rifled through a wardrobe looking for clothing that would fit his mage.

***

“Was this one of Danarius’ dressing gowns?” Anders was staring down at the purple monstrosity with amusement. “Because if so, he had horrible taste.”

“I do not think so.” Fenris tilted his head, eyes taking in the purple brocade, the gilt embroidery, and the tassel-covered buttons. “I do not know who that belonged to.”

Anders wiggled his bare feet and then curled up on the bed, pulling his small bag to him and rifling around for a comb. “So…”

“So.” Fenris watched him pull out the comb and begin to untangle his damp hair. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes?” Anders flushed and focused on a knot. “Thank you for allowing me to wash my clothing.”

“I will need to purchase you some better socks. And perhaps new smalls.” Fenris was busy laying out food and missed Anders’ mouth opening and closing. “I am surprised either article of clothing is able to actually stay on your body. Your socks are mostly holes and your smalls…” The sound of Anders choking had him looking up. “What?”

“You can’t...purchase...smalls. No.” Anders shook his head. “I...no.”

“You are my mage. I can.” Fenris stopped what he was doing to gape at Anders. “Did I just call you my mage?”

“You did.” The words were squeaked.

Shifting awkwardly, Fenris flushed and huffed. “I apologize.”

Silence filled the room, uncomfortable and heavy. Anders picked at his hair while Fenris rearranged the food...again. He was just about to open his mouth when Anders gave a snort and giggle. “Mage?”

“It’s just...haa...my mage. As if…” Anders giggled again. “There are many mages out there but this one...he is mine.”

Fenris gave another huff and tried to cover the grin. “It would be true.”

“The mage who won over the mage-hating elf? Maker.” Anders shook his head. “It must be biology talking. Hormones.”

“Indeed. Why I would ever want such a difficult mage as my own is beyond me.” Fenris finished assembling a plate and brought it to the bed. He frowned at Anders. “Give me that comb.”

“I’m a big mage. I can comb my own hair.” Anders sat up and stared down his nose at Fenris.

“Yes, but I would rather the big mage feed himself. Now give me the comb, Anders. I am only going to comb out your hair.” Fenris raised an eyebrow.

“So damn bossy.” The mutter was accompanied by the comb being held out. Fenris placed the plate on the bed and took Anders hand, turning it over so he could see the wrist. There was a long, deep scar that started just below his hand.

“When?” Fenris’ question was gentle, his fingers even more gentle as they rubbed over the scar.

Anders cleared his throat and looked away. “After I joined the wardens.”

“Why?” Fenris’ fingers slid down Anders’ arm, brushing up the sleeve of the robe to expose the full scar.

“I had problems acclimating. My time in solitary left me with nightmares. The Joining...it added to them. I wasn’t sleeping. I was having a hard time settling in - always so afraid the templars would be back. I…” Anders sighed. “We had just come back from a Deep Roads trip. It had been bad. Really bad. I locked myself in my room and...well. The Commander found me and poured healing potions over my wrists and then dragged me to the infirmary. One of his old friends was passing through and she...she finished healing me.”

“Was that the only time you tried?” Fenris released the wrist and picked up the plate, handing it to Anders before settling on the bed. Slowly, carefully, he began to comb out the still-wet hair. “Anders?”

“Daithi listened to me and...he fixed it. Or tried to. He moved me to his rooms, which was awkward. He’s an Alpha - a mated Alpha. Then he got me Pounce. Pounce helped. Having that cat...well.” Anders relaxed as his hair was combed out. “That feels good.”

Fenris smoothed the comb through the long strands. “And have you felt the urge recently? It has been stressful. I have added to that.”

Anders took a bite of bread and shook his head, the comb catching in his hair and making him wince. “Ouch. No.”

“Stay still,” Fenris chided, untangling the comb and resuming the long strokes. “Anders. I would have you tell me if...if you feel pressured. Or afraid.”

Moving the plate to the bed, Anders twisted around and nabbed Fenris’ hands. “Fenris. I know you aren’t fond of mages and that my being joined with Justice is a problem for you, but Justice is good for me. He’s there to remind me that I am not alone. He reminds me of our purpose. No matter how lonely I am, no matter how hard it gets, he is there.”

“So I should be thanking your...ahh…” Fenris tripped over the words. “Your spirit?”

Anders’ smile was wry. “Well yes. That and Daithi made me promise. And I refuse to go back on that promise.”

“I would still be here for you. Not as a mate, not as a suitor...but…” Fenris struggled, his eyes dipping down to stare at the bed. “I would protect you, Anders.”

“I’m beginning to understand that. Give me time, Fenris. Give me time to become used to all of this. It has been so long since I’ve...since…” Anders pulled back and toyed with the grapes on his plate. “Allow us time to settle as friends before we move on to more.”

Fenris picked a grape from the bunch on Anders’ plate and held it out. “Eat, Anders. I do not wish to push you.”

“Maker.” Anders rolled his eyes, but accepted the grape. “I don’t think you understand the meaning of not being pushy.”

Fenris just hummed and held out a slice of bread, a smile blossoming as Anders ate everything on his plate.

***

The laugh that burst from Fenris made Anders grumble. Fenris tried to reign it in but all that accomplished was snorting. The huffing coming from Anders was making the giggles worse until Fenris rolled over to press his face to the bed, shoulders shaking as he howled into the covers.

There had been sleep clothes to go with the dressing gown. The clothing included a long sleep shirt and a hat. The sleep shirt was purple, had tassel-covered buttons down the front, and golden embroidery around the hem. It hung just below Anders’ knees...his knobby knees and long legs. The entire shirt was too big and billowed when he walked.

The hat was a soft sleep cap of deep purple that stretched to an unfortunately long, narrow tip...topped with a tassel. Anders wasn’t wearing the cap. No, he was holding it by the tasseled-tip with a look of sheer horror on his face.

“Stop laughing,” Anders grouched.

“You look ridiculous,” Fenris gasped. “I should see if there is something more suitable.”

“It’s ugly but comfortable,” Anders admitted. “However, I refused to wear this hat. This hat is a curse...in fact, I think this did belong to a mage.”

“How can you tell?” Fenris had pulled himself up and started pulling back the covers. He was in sleep pants - soft black cotton that clung to his hips. Anders momentarily forgot what he was talking about as Fenris bent over the bed. “Mage? How can you tell?”

“Er…” Anders sputtered.

Fenris glanced back over his shoulder, saw Anders’ face, and grinned. “Concentrate, Mage. How do you know that was owned by another mage?”

Blushing, Anders threw the cap at Fenris. “Because it looks modeled after a Circle hat. Maker, stop wiggling your hips.”

Fenris chuckled, placed the cap on the nightstand, and stood, stretching his arms over his  
head. His eyes did not leave Anders’ as he arched his back. Anders took a step back, throat working. “Anders…” His name was a predatory purr.

“Mating urge. It’s the mating urge, right?” Anders stiffened, quivering slightly as Fenris stalked towards him.

“A little,” admitted Fenris. “But you cannot see your face. The ways your eyes follow me. It is very hard to not preen.”

“I’m sorry,” Anders breathed. Fenris smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist, tugging him lightly towards the bed. Anders followed, eyes wide as Fenris walked backwards. With a laugh, Fenris swung him around and gently pushed him back.

“It is time to sleep.” Fenris followed him down, pressing against Anders’ side and pulling up the blankets.

“Are you sure that’s what we’re doing?” Anders squirmed as Fenris’ breath wafted over his neck. “Fenris…”

“May I kiss you?” Fenris was smiling down at him, the question asked so simply, so easily. It made Anders relax. “Anders, may I kiss you?”

“Yes.” It helped. The questions helped Anders to open to Fenris, lips moving in tandem as they both tasted each other.

Their scents entwined, settling around them like a blanket. It felt right, to grip naked shoulders and nibble over pouting lips, to tilt his head back and allow Fenris to trail kisses down his long neck.

The spark of mating urge gripped them both, leaving them clinging and panting. Fenris pressed his face tightly against Anders’ neck and rode out the sensation, breathing slowly and feeling his mage do the same. His...his…

His mage.

Anders’ elf.

It seemed so simple in that moment, when their bodies urged them to join and their scents grew headier...so simple to admit that this was what he wanted. And Anders’ whispers against his hair made him think that perhaps the mage was in agreement.

“Fenris.” Anders finally sighed, body limp and warm under his. “This is going to end poorly.”

“No.” Fenris shook his head and slipped off of Anders to cuddle against his side instead. “No, we will go slow. We will not rush. I will not allow my past to taint what we can build here.”

Anders thought about that as he rolled to his side and pressed back against Fenris. “I suppose trying never hurt. Other than a broken heart…”

“I will not break your heart,” Fenris murmured sleepily. “Now rest. We both need sleep.”

Anders’ hum vibrated against his hands and he nuzzled closer, settling himself against his mage’s back. He was smiling when he felt Anders finally go limp with sleep. His mage. The words echoed around in his mind.

A problem to deal with in the morning.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merrill and Hawke take tentative steps forward while Fenris and Anders seem to settle into what can only be called Courting.

Giggling made Anders look up from his table, a smile already forming on his lips as Isabela and Merrill walked through the clinic door. Next to him came a soft huff of amusement, Fenris shaking his head at the two giggling women. Isabela nabbed Merrill’s arm and whispered in her ear, the little elf glancing at Fenris and Anders and grinning. It made Anders roll his eyes and flush.

He knew what they saw.

Ever since he had spent the night at Fenris’ mansion, they had been inseparable. Fenris came by at least once a day to bring him food and check in on him. And he had spent another night curled against Fenris, sleeping deeply and soundly.

“Merrill, Isabela.” Anders tried to ignore Fenris next to him. “I guess it’s time?”

“Yes, Lethallin. I have my things. Are you sure about this? I wouldn’t want to disturb your time with Fenris.” Merrill smiled at both men. “I mean, I could stay with Izzy.”

“Nonsense.” Anders hopped up and went to take her small sack of belongings. “I’ve set up the bed for you to take. No, don’t argue. I will sleep out here.”

“I’ll come down and check on her. How long does this usually last?” Isabela brushed Merrill’s hair back and smiled.

“No more than three days on a suppressant. It can last up to five days without one,” Anders explained. “Who wants to go through that every three months?”

Merrill giggled. “People who are mated.”

Fenris huffed again. “It is no joy for the Alpha, either.”

Anders glanced back at Fenris who gave him a half-smile. “Yes, I have been used during an Omega heat. It is exhausting.”

Anders didn’t want to pry in front of their friends, but his face was stricken. His eyes grew sad at the thought - if Fenris was, indeed, infertile then a heat would have been traumatic. He watched Fenris tilt his head, a question in his eyes. “Ah…”

“Do wardens still have heats? I assume so since you said your last cycle was over a month ago," Fenris asked gently.

“We do.” Anders nodded, hand rubbing lightly at his abdomen. “It is...yes. We do.”

Merrill and Isabela watched the byplay silently. Shaking herself, Isabela reached for Merrill and hugged her. “Alright, Kitten. I’ll come back down soon to check on you. Just relax. Anders will take care of you.”

“I am staying to guard the clinic as well,” Fenris rumbled. “I do not wish any problems. I will sleep out here, Merrill.”

Merrill beamed at Fenris. “You all are so helpful. I appreciate it. I...oh…” Her voice slid away as Hawke ambled into the clinic with Varric and came to a stop. “Hawke.”

“Hey! They gang’s all here. Why’s the gang all here?” Hawke glanced at each of them, noting Merrill’s fidgeting, Isabela’s obvious move to shield the little elf, and Fenris standing. “What’s going on?”

“Hawke I…” Merrill took a step back towards Anders. “I’m…”

“Is something the matter? Merrill? Are you alright?” Hawke’s hands clenched. He was clearly trying to stay relaxed. Anders watched as he glanced at Fenris and then slowly rounded his shoulders. The submissive posture made Anders relax.

“It’s ok, Hawke. Merrill is about to start her heat. She’s down here so I can help her through it. Even on a suppressant, they can be scary.” Anders figured the truth was better than a well-meaning lie.

“Your...oh. Oh!” Hawke’s face blazed red. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad you’re going to help. I...I wish I had known. Do we have time? I need help with a job, and I don’t want to push.”

“You aren’t mad?” Merrill took a slow step forward.

“No, why would I be?” Hawke’s face was filled with confusion. “We aren’t mated. I wouldn’t want you to go through it alone. I wish I could invite you to stay with me; Mother knows how to help with these things. She helps Bethy through hers. But I know how Uncle Gamlen is and our place is so small. Anders is a good healer, he’ll help keep you safe.”

Merrill’s mouth opened and closed, and then she rushed forward to wrap her arms around Hawke - who held his arms out as if he was afraid to touch her. “Oh...I thought you’d be so mad at me and I didn’t like sneaking but...I was so worried...and Anders has been such a dear about this and Fenris said he would keep us safe and...I am so sorry.”

Anders chuckled at the look of bliss on Hawke’s face. “Why don’t you go back to my room with her and talk. We’ll all just sit out here and wait. We can be patient.”

“Yes...I...yes. Come on, Merrill. Are these your things? I’ll carry them for you. Is there some particular food you would prefer during your heat? I can bring it to you, you know. I’d want to check on you, if that’s ok.” Hawke’s voice grew more quiet as he disappeared with Merrill behind the curtain.

Varric hummed and rocked. “See, I knew those two would figure it out.”

***

“So the Viscount’s son is missing. Or so he says. A little checking around netted me some rumors that the boy is a Qunari lover and is probably off on the coast with a Qunari. I don’t judge but…” Hawke’s shrug seemed to say the Viscount was screwed. “Some Nevarran company is off to find him, but I don’t trust them. Their spokesperson was rude and aggressive. So if we can nab the boy out from under them, so much the better.”

The group was lounging on cots in the clinic, listening to Hawke talk. Merrill was perched next to him, her head resting against him as he talked. Every so often, a tiny smile would creep up Hawke’s face. It made Anders glance at Fenris - who was sitting next to him. Fenris had that same little smile.

It was mildly disconcerting.

“And I have a job for some Chantry type, and before you go all authoritarian on me, Anders, here me out. Some Chantry brother’s family was wiped out by a merc gang. They’re out on the coast as well. I say we kill the gang, nab the boy, come home.” Hawke rubbed his hands together. “A little Chantry good will, a little Viscount good will…”

“Can we do all of this in one afternoon?” Fenris’ question seemed pertinent.

“I don’t see why not. But you bring up a good point. Injuries could slow us. Pack for overnight, but we’ll try to finish before that’s a necessity.” Hawke nodded at Fenris. “Any other questions?” When the group shook their heads, Hawke beamed. “Alright, let’s get our stuff together. We’ll meet at the Hanged Man, as per usual.”

In the midst of the hustle and bustle, Fenris took Anders’ hand. Smoothing his thumb over the back and around to the scars on his wrist, he looked at his mage with serious eyes. “I would like to share a tent with you tonight, if I may.”

“Alright.” Anders tried to keep his answer nonchalant, though he could feel his cheeks burning. “Should I, ah, grab a blanket?”

“I have enough bedding. Just pack your healing supplies and then go with Varric.” Fenris frowned slightly. “If you don’t mind.”

Anders had started to bristle at the command and then relaxed. “You’re trying.”

“I am. It is hard," Fenris admitted. “But I am trying.”

Anders laced his fingers with Fenris’ and squeezed. “I appreciate it. I’ll just be a minute and then I’ll be ready to go.”

Fenris nodded. “Hawke, I am going to head up to get my things. Can you walk with Anders to the Hanged Man?”

Hawke waited to see if Anders was going to protest the question. When no protests were forthcoming, he gave a tentative, “yes.”

“Mage. I will be back shortly.” Fenris fussed over Anders. “I will pack food. You will eat.”

“Yes, oh great and powerful Alpha,” Anders teased. “I’ll pack healing potions and bandages - for your ass. Seeing as how it gets beaten up frequently.”

A slow smile spread over Fenris’ face and he leaned up to whisper in Anders’ ear. “It is not my ass that will receive the beating if you keep snarking. It is arousing, and I will be tempted to...ah...test our boundaries.”

Anders clicked his mouth shut and blushed. He went to take a step back and Fenris wrapped an arm around his waist. “Fenris…”

“Tell me truthfully. Are you trying to move away because you are scared of me and nervous or because there is an audience?” Fenris asked, head tilting.

Anders’ blush seemed to go another shade red. He rocked lightly, ignoring the giggling he could hear coming from Isabela behind him, and closed his eyes. “That there is an audience.”

Fenris gave him a squeeze and released him. “Good. I do not usually do public displays but your words…” There was a chuckle. “I could not resist.”

Anders watched Fenris nod to Hawke, smile at Varric, and then head out. Still in shock, he moved to his table to start gathering up potions and bandages, motions automatic. His bag was filled before he even registered that he had been busy. A hand on his arm had him looking up, eyes wide.

“You alright?” Hawke was there, amusement and curiosity on his face. “Whatever Fenris said has had you in a daze.”

“He was just flirting.” Anders tried to shrug it off.

“So…” Hawke waved at Merrill and Isabela, watching Merrill chatter up at her friend. “Will she be alright for an overnight?”

“She’ll be fine. She has her suppressant and I’ll bring extra.” Anders counted out vials and carefully packed them. “If you two share a tent, be aware that her emotions will be heightened and...ah...urges could happen.”

Hawke rubbed the back of his neck, flushing. “Strong urges?”

“I’ve never been around a compatible Alpha during a heat, but if they are like the regular mating urges...yes.” Anders felt his cheeks burning. “Probably stronger.”

“Mating urges, huh?” The shoulder nudge was playful. “Just how close are you and Fenris getting?”

“None of your business.” Anders finished packing bandages and poultices and glanced at Hawke. “None.”

“Thought you weren’t on the market. I thought you didn’t need a big, strong Alpha.” The teasing was instantaneous.

“I’m not. I don’t. It’s just...we’re just...friends.” Anders finished lamely. “That kiss.”

“Sounds like courting to me, but what do I know?” Hawke slapped a hand to Anders’ shoulder and led him from his clinic, waiting while he locked up.

“Hawke…” Anders warned.

“I just want to know one thing, and then I’ll drop it. I promise.” Hawke caught Anders’ gaze and held it. “Do you feel safe with him?”

Anders chewed on the corner of his lip before giving a shy smile. “I feel safe and...happy.”

“Then it’s all good," Hawke said with a nod.

***

Both jobs were completed with relative ease - the merc band going down almost as fast as the bandit group. The Viscount’s son was found - relatively unharmed - and the entire afternoon was deemed a success. It was unfortunate that Saemus, the Viscount’s son, had strayed so far from Kirkwall. It was also unfortunate that the Qunari he had been with had been killed. The entire group had watched in silence as Seamus had mourned his friend, sighing quietly when Bethany moved to comfort him. But despite how well the jobs went, there was no way to make it back to the city gates before dark fell. Instead, Hawke said they’d head for a good area closer to the city and make camp.

The walk to the campsite was notable only because Fenris held Anders’ hand. The group kept their opinions to themselves - mainly for Anders’ sake. He had given little shy smiles when Bethany grinned at him, cheeks pink and eyes down on the path when not darting up to see if anybody was staring.

For his part, Fenris kept his head up and face placid. The feeling of the mage’s fingers entwined with his seemed to strengthen the possessive urges he had. He wanted the mage ensconced in the mansion - safe and warm, fed and happy and laughing. He wanted to see Anders lounging in front of the fire with a book, hair down and in just sleep pants. He wanted to hold the mage while they slept, feel him lax in his arms.

Some time between the first kiss and now, Fenris had decided that courting his mage was inevitable. The entire growing affection was inevitable. Even with Justice, even with Anders being a mage...Fenris couldn’t seem to turn away. And he didn’t want to. What he wanted to do was pull Anders behind a boulder and kiss him senseless, mark him, bind him so that he would never leave.

It was too soon to act on these urges. Too soon to give the mating mark. And despite the urges, Fenris was enjoying the chase - enjoying stalking his mage with food and comfort.

He squeezed Anders’ hand and watched as the mage glanced at him. Slowly, Fenris let his fingers stroke over the scars on Anders’ wrist - careful to keep the gauntlets from scratching the delicate skin. Anders’ cheeks grew redder and a look of confused affection filled his eyes. It made Fenris smile and stroke the scars again - a wordless reminder that Anders was no longer alone.

They held hands until the group reached the campsite. A little discussion about sleeping arrangements and then tents were going up. Saemus would share with Hawke, who just grinned and joked with the young man. Saemus returned the quips readily while shooting Bethany little adoring looks.

Fenris watched the group joke and tease each other as their tents went up. He positioned his tent a little farther from the group, making sure that he and Anders would have a bit of privacy. He was hoping to talk Anders into taking his shirt off...perhaps allowing him to rub his back. He frowned a little as he finished with the tent stakes.

Which was how Anders found him: frowning at the tent. “What did the tent do to you?”

Fenris snorted and shook his head. “Nothing. I was deep in thought.”

“I hesitate to ask about what. Your face resembled a thundercloud.” Anders peeked into the tent and then knelt down, starting to arrange the bedding.

“I was thinking about you,” Fenris admitted, wincing at how the words came out. “And wondering if my request would be too...bold…”

“What request?” Anders had finished with the bedding and crawled into the tent, starting to work at his boots. “Maker, but my feet are sore.”

“I shall look into new boots for you.” Fenris joined Anders in the tent, fingers going to his armor buckles. “I owe you socks and smalls as well.”

“Maker, you’re not buying me smalls,” Anders groused.

“You could go without.” Fenris raised an eyebrow. “I may enjoy that.”

Pinching his lips together, Anders ducked his head and went back to pulling off tattered boots and holey socks.

They undressed in silence, Anders removing his coat and folding it up before lying back. Fenris piled his armor carefully and then, with a glance at Anders, pulled off his tunic. He heard the soft inhale and hummed. “So…” Fenris smoothed a hand over the bedding. “If I asked you to remove your shirt…”

“You want me to remove my shirt?” Anders rolled to his side to blink at Fenris. “Why?”

“So that I may cover you in bite marks.” Fenris loomed over Anders and grinned, showing his teeth.

“Fenris…” Anders rolled his eyes.

“You have seen me shirtless,” Fenris said while sitting back. “I wish to see what I am getting with you as a mate.”

“Andraste’s nipples.” Anders rolled to his stomach to hide his face. “I’m not your mate.”

“You are, but that discussion can happen later.” Fenris straddled Anders’ hips and leaned over him. “I can see you now - spread open for me on our bed, teasing me terribly…”

Anders grumbled and then let out a giggle as Fenris danced his fingers over his sides. “Maker!”

“Please, Anders?” Fenris tried asking sweetly. “I promise to not eat you alive tonight.”

“You are a horrible nag.” Anders sighed, rolling over and knocking Fenris off of his hips. “Fine, but you’ll regret this.” He sat up and pulled of his shirt, keeping his face turned away.

Anders wasn’t just slender; he was skinny. Skin and bones skinny. Pale and freckled with a light mat of golden hair, his chest bore scars - some from battle and some that made Fenris frown. Anders coughed and turned to put his tunic with his coat and Fenris inhaled at the sight of his mage’s back.

It was covered in thin, evenly spaced scars . Silvery pale, Fenris knew what they were. Marks from a cane. Overlapping them were more from a whip - and then the inevitable marks from battle.

He hesitated and then slowly placed a hand on one shoulder, dragged it down and let himself feel the ridges. “What happened?”

“The Templars happened.” Anders was quiet. “I didn’t toe the line. I dared to fight back. And I even managed a few escapes.”

“Are there more?” Fenris had to know.

“Yes.” The word had him closing his eyes.

The sight of those scars hammered home what Anders had said about his past. They confirmed every theory Fenris had. His mage had been abused - terribly abused. Beaten, thrown into solitary...hounded by the people who should have protected him. Fenris let out a growl and pulled Anders to him, held him close and whispered against his ear. “Never again. They will never touch you again. I swear it.”

Anders had stiffened, but the words made him go limp. “I…”

“You are mine.” Fenris growled. “Mine. And I will not allow anybody to hurt you ever again. Do you understand?”

And for the first time, Anders let down a tiny bit of his guard - enough to cling to Fenris and allow himself to believe it. “Yes. Yes...I understand…”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The courting dance begins.

Anders was dead to the world when the sun came up. Sprawled on his stomach, head buried against Fenris’ shoulder, he didn’t even move when Fenris’ hand stroked down his back. It was rather adorable; the way he buried his head a hair deeper, the tiny noise of protest when Fenris shifted, the way his hand clung to Fenris’ waist.

Fenris was nearly purring from the contact.

He supposed they should get up and start preparing to return to Kirkwall, though that would mean waking his mage and Anders got so little sleep to begin with. His hand stroked down the scarred back, fingers feeling over each ridge and dip. It made him want to storm the Gallows, pull the heart from every Templar, bring them to Anders to show him that he would be safe now.

And that was terrifying. Not the blood rage, not the violence, but the realization that there were mages in the Gallows who probably looked like this. Who were probably even worse off. Omegas held locked in a tower with Alphas holding sway. Certainly a reverse from Tevinter.

Though that didn’t make it right.

Anders’ body went tight as he stretched, his yawn dragging his lips over Fenris’ skin. Fingers pressed a hair harder against his waist and then Anders was blinking at him.

“You think very loudly in the morning.” There was a note of amusement in Anders’ voice. “And you’re brooding. Maker, it was a good night. I slept like...well...I slept. Just sleeping is amazing. Did you not? Did I wake you?”

Fenris shifted a bit so that he could play with Anders’ hair. “I had some unwelcome realizations while watching you sleep.”

“That I’m a possessed mage who snores?” Anders went to sit up and found himself anchored down by strong arms.

“No. It was the realization that here, your Alphas are like the Omegas in Tevinter: power mad and willing to hurt anybody to stay in power.” Fenris sounded peeved.

“Not all the Alphas are like that. Hawke is a good guy. Alistair, the King of Ferelden? Good guy. The Ferelden Commander of the Grey, Daithi? Great guy.” Anders settled on propping himself up on Fenris’ chest. “Or do you mean the Chantry?”

“I mean the Circle. You said others were abused. Are abused. Is there no safeguard for this? Does nobody care?” Fenris grumbled and rolled them over, watching Anders’ hair spread out over the bed roll. He levered himself up to look down into Anders’ eyes. “Does this mean there are children being abused?”

Anders wasn’t sure what this was or where it came from. The questions were a welcome change from the usual mage bashing. A surprising change. He watched as Fenris settled on top of him and it felt like he was being shielded from the world.

“The Chantry says the Circles are there to protect us. But…” Anders grinned when Fenris snorted. “Absolute power and corruption. It’s rot. A way to control us, to keep magic in the grip of the Chantry.”

Fenris pondered those words. “I still...fear…”

And that made Anders pause. “You have cause,” he said finally.

“Do I?”

“If I had been a slave of Danarius’, I wouldn’t look so kindly on mages either,” Anders admitted. “Slavery is an injustice, and what was done to you…” The words drifted off and Anders gave a surprised laugh. “Listen to us.”

“Mm?”

“Being reasonable. All I had to do was take off my shirt.” Anders practically giggled. “If I take off my pants, can I convince you to support mage rights?”

“If you take off your pants I shall rip off your smalls and spend some time making you writhe with pleasure.” Fenris gave Anders a very serious look. “And that activity cannot happen until we are mated.”

Anders blinked in surprise, his look making Fenris smile gently. “I will not have you thinking that I have sweet talked you simply to have you in my bed. I will not use you, Anders. I do not wish you to, I mean to say. You deserve to be courted properly. You deserve…”

Anders was shocked when tears filled his eyes. Swallowing past the emotions, he cleared his throat. “You deserve more than a roll as well.”

Fenris leaned down and brushed his lips over Anders’. Humming to himself, he whispered, “So may I court you, Anders? May I take the next step and start trying to win you?”

“If I say yes…” Anders hesitated. “Maker...am I dishonoring Karl by doing this? By even considering it?

“Karl,” Fenris said slowly. “You think saying yes would make what happened less?”

“I should be alone.” Anders pushed on Fenris, who slid to the side to let him sit up. “I should…”

Fenris reached out and took one wrist, his fingers tracing over the scars there. “You are worth love, Anders. You are worth this.”

It made Anders’ breath hitch. “You mean that.”

“I mean it,” Fenris said, his hand stroking over the scar. “I mean every word of it.”

***

Breakfast started as a large game of don’t make eye-contact. When Anders and Fenris crawled from their tent it was to find Saemus exiting Hawke’s tent...alone. Hawke was crawling out of Merrill’s tent, and Bethany was eyeing Saemus was increasing interest. Anders cleared his throat and allowed Fenris to lead him to the camp fire.

“Morning.” Anders tried for nonchalant and was amused to realize Hawke was aiming for the same attitude.

“Anders. Fenris. Did you both sleep well?” Hawke helped Merrill to the fire and then bustled over to see what was being cooked. “It’s porridge.” His eyes drifted to Merrill with concern.

“I love porridge,” Merrill assured him, and Hawke’s shoulders lifted as he spooned some into a bowl.

Fenris was giving Anders the same look and the mage hadn’t the heart to tell him that he didn’t want porridge. “Ah, yes. Porridge will work.”

Fenris beamed. Merrill and Anders shared a look as their Alphas fussed over the porridge, over the tea, over everything in fact. It was all going spectacularly well - happy Alphas, amused Omegas...and then Saemus was heard asking Bethany, “Can I get you a cup of tea?”

Her murmured purr of delight was nearly drowned out by the growling from Hawke and Fenris. Both Alphas realized that they were growling and looked shocked. Saemus just grinned and poured Bethany tea, fussing over her.

Anders slid over to sit next to Merrill and leaned down. “I think they’re compatible.”

“Aren’t they cute?” Merrill beamed up at him.

“Hawke is going to shit his pants if Saemus touches her.” Anders coughed and smiled up at Fenris.

“Mage, are you gossiping?” Fenris sat down and shoved a full bowl of porridge at him. “You are not eating. Why are you not eating? Is it not good enough?”

Hawke was on the other side of Merrill and saying nearly the same things, the fussing being picked up by Saemus who was trying to tempt Bethany with...porridge.

Varric crawled out of his tent, saw the three Alpha holding bowls of porridge, turned around, and crawled back the way he came. There was the sound of whispers, a cackle, and then Isabela slinking from the tent.

“Morning all,” she purred, sauntering to the fire. “Ah...porridge. How dull.”

“Morning, Izzy. Did you sleep well?” Merrill perked up.

“Kitten, I always sleep well when Varric lets me cuddle his chest hair.” Isabela winked at Varric who rolled his eyes. “We even covered Bianca.”

The entire group inhaled at that.

“No taunting Bianca. You know how she gets, Rivani.” Varric took a seat next to Fenris, leaned forward, and smiled at Anders. “Blondie, you look radiant.”

“Er...thank you?” Anders brushed back at his hair.

“You look like you actually slept,” Varric continued. “I’m sure that being wrapped up in a strong Alpha’s arms…”

“Sweet Maker. Shut up,” Anders groused.

“Were his arms strong?” Merrill asked. “Hawke’s arms were strong.”

“Are you coming to the clinic or no?” Anders was glaring at Hawke.

“I didn’t touch her...well, I touched her. I mean I held her. Clothing was worn. Maker, is it hot today?” Hawke shifted where he sat.

“Bethany, you look beautiful.” Saemus was doting. “Do you...are you promised to anybody?”

Bethany giggled as Hawke started growling again. Merrill sighed, reached up, and smacked Hawke on the nose.

“Garrett. Stop it.”

The entire camp looked at the little elf - who calmly sipped her tea.

Anders sighed and took another bite of his porridge, trying to not purr at the amount of pleasure evident on Fenris’ face. Another bite and he rolled his eyes. He had a feeling the entire group was going to devolve into Alpha/Omega mating rituals and it was making him itch.

“So, first thing’s first. Let’s get you back to your Father.” Hawke was talking to Saemus.

“Before we do that, may I call on your sister?” Saemus was vibrating slightly, his eyes wide. “She is...she is so special.”

“Sweet Maker, save me from the mating dance,” Anders prayed quietly under his breath.

“What are your intentions?” Hawke leaned forward, teeth bared.

Saemus didn’t back down. “I believe we are compatible. I wish to get to know her before I ask to court her, as is proper.”

“Court her. Not…” Hawke let the words lay unsaid. Saemus sat up and snarled. “I will allow it.”

“I am sitting right here.” Bethany gave both men a cranky look.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“Sister...you know I would never…”

“Anders, would you and Merrill like to walk with me back to Kirkwall?” Bethany ignored both men.

“Er...yes?” Anders hazarded, glanced at Fenris.

“I’d love to. We can chat about heats. Oh, I am already feeling a little nauseous. Anders, is that normal?” Merrill turned wide eyes to Anders.

“Let’s get everything packed up. She needs to be someplace quiet and all this growling is going to make me go slightly cranky.” Anders stood.

“You didn’t finish your porridge.” Fenris held up the bowl.

Anders pondered dumping the porridge on Fenris’ head. He glanced down into wide, liquid green eyes and sighed at the pleading he saw in them.

“I’ll eat if you take down the tent,” Anders muttered.

Fenris stood gracefully, hummed in happiness, and went to dismantle the tent. Anders stood slack jawed for a brief moment and then shoveled a spoonful of food into his face. The happy humming increased with each spoonful of food eaten.

It was...quite frankly...odd.

***

Bethany gave another sigh, her eyes lingering on Saemus. The Viscount’s son was walking with Hawke and Fenris, the three Alphas talking quietly. The Omegas walked behind them, their eyes lingering on their respective Alphas. Behind them stalked Isabela and Varric, the two of them taking notes.

Another sigh and Anders gave a muffled snort. “Pining already?”

“He’s so handsome,” Bethany whispered.

Merrill tilted her head. “Your brother is more handsome.”

“I am not commenting on my brother.” Bethany rolled her eyes. Both women looked up at Anders.

“What?” Anders blinked.

“Aren’t you going to argue that Fenris is the most handsome?” Merrill poked his side.

Anders watched as Fenris glanced back, eyebrow raised. He huffed softly. “Is this a competition?”

“No, silly. It’s just…” Bethany let out a little sigh as Saemus turned around and waved. She waved back and giggled.

“Maker save me from this entire mating dance,” Anders muttered.

“You don’t enjoy it?” Merrill offered Hawke a wave, beaming when he winked at her.

“I…” Anders gazed at Fenris, who tilted his head to the side. “Alphas still scare me.”

Both Bethany and Merrill shared a look. “But Fenris doesn’t, right?” Bethany pushed.

“He takes care of you,” Merrill added.

“I take care of myself.” Anders voice was firm. “I have for a long time now.”

“You are right.” Fenris had slowed, taking up a position between Bethany and Anders. “You have taken care of yourself for a long time now. It is admirable. You do not need an Alpha. That you allow me to fuss...it is a gift.”

“I…” Anders looked flabbergasted.

“Why do you two not go walk with Hawke and Saemus?” Fenris raised an eyebrow. “I believe Anders and I could use some time.”

“Oh! Of course! I mean, I’ll have plenty of time to talk to him while down in the clinic,” Merrill babbled, grabbing Bethany’s hand. The women winked at Anders and then skipped ahead, slipping to stand between Saemus and Hawke.

Fenris reached out and took Anders’ hand, his fingers stroking lightly at his wrist. Slowly, Anders relaxed and a smile appeared. “Better?” Fenris asked.

“Thank you for that. They don’t understand. They’ve never had to deal with what I have had to.” Anders squeezed Fenris’ fingers.

They walked side by side, listening to Varric and Isabela chatter. The day was warm, sunny, pleasant, and Anders realized he was enjoying the walk back to town. Unconsciously, his fingers flexed and rubbed against Fenris’, squeezing lightly while swinging their arms.

“You seem happy.” Fenris glanced up.

“I am. I feel...is this what it’s supposed to feel like?” Anders wondered. “Is this what normal Omegas feel like when they are with their Alpha?”

“How is that?”

“Content. Satisfied. Safe…” Anders chewed on the corner of his lip.

A small smile played over Fenris’ lips. “And how does it make you feel to know that I give you that?”

Anders pondered as they walked. “I feel like I can work in the clinic and be safe. Like I am a little freer to push myself because you will be there to pull me back.”

Fenris hummed. “You remind me that there is more to my life than simply Danarius. You give me freedom, Anders. This...this courting...it is freeing.”

“Warden heats are a little wonky - the taint messes with our bodies and it throws off timing. I figure I have a couple months before my next.” Anders glanced over at Fenris. “I want to keep taking the suppressant.”

“That is wise. It takes the pressure off of us planning for a full heat.” Fenris’ ears flushed a bit.

“I want to keep taking the suppressant, but I would like to stay with you. My last heat I closed the clinic and sat in my room for the three days - itchy and moody.” Anders gave a wry laugh. “I get moody.”

The blush on fenris’ ears deepened a hair. “You would trust me so much? To be there for you during your heat?”

Anders’ gave a small smile, face heating. “I would...yes.”

“I wish we were alone,” Fenris muttered. “So that I may kiss you.”

Anders chuckled, raised their hands, and pressed a soft kiss to the back of Fenris’ hand. From behind them came the sound of “aww” followed by feverish whispers. Fenris huffed, making Anders full-on laugh.

“One more, only this time on the lips,” called Isabela.

Surprisingly, Fenris complied - stopping briefly to pull Anders into a quick, light kiss. “Mine.” He growled playfully. And for once, Anders didn’t argue with the sentiment. He just poked Fenris’ chest, rolled his eyes a bit, and gave a soft hum.

No sense in arguing over what was, rapidly, becoming truth.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merrill's heat hits and Anders shares with Fenris about how his own heat usually happens.
> 
> Slavers in Kirkwall...

“Anders.” Merrill’s voice was a plaintive little wail from his room. “I hurt.”

Anders sighed and closed his eyes. His patient chuckled. “You babysitting an Omega, Healer?”

“Maker save me, yes. Can you give me a brief moment?” His patient was an older woman, a Beta. She just waved her hand at him.

“I don’t envy you poor dears. Heats and Alphas and urges. She sounds young. Go help her. I won’t go anywhere. Besides, we both know that this is just my joints.” She settled herself on the cot and pulled out knitting. “You look like a scarf man.”

Anders stood up and swallowed a chuckle. “Yes ma’am. I do like scarves.”

“You go see to that young thing. Got my knitting here.” Ignoring him now, the woman bent to her knitting and began to hum. Anders glanced over at Fenris, who was giving him a very straight-faced look.

“I’ll be right back.” Fenris appreciated being told, Anders knew. And Anders...Maker save him...enjoyed the little burst of happy in his chest when Fenris gave him an approving smile. It felt like he had somehow given up, had chained himself again. And yet...it didn’t. It was freeing. Safe. He felt like he could heal and help, could walk to the market, could even sleep and he was safe.

He pushed all courting concerns aside as he stepped into his cubby. Merrill was in just a shift and currently curled up on his cot. Skin pink and glistening, she was rocking gently. “Anders...hurts.”

“I know, sweeting. You need to do your breathing exercises for me. In and out. Slow.” Anders sat down.

“Your smell is annoying.” Merrill wrinkled her nose. “I miss Hawke.”

Anders pinched his nose. “Yes. I know. I’m sorry I stink.”

From the clinic, Anders heard the clank of armor. He stood, his staff in his hand before he could even register the threat. Lightning crackled over his fingers as the clank moved towards the curtain. He was one twitch from letting fly with the lightning when Hawke stepped in.

“Maker’s Breath, Hawke!” Anders sagged.

“Garrett!” wailed Merrill.

“Oh, love. You look like you need a hug.” Hawke was across the room in two steps, gathering Merrill to him. “Shh, I have you.

“Hurts!” wailed Merrill.

“I need to sit down.” Anders slouched back through the curtain, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

Fenris had stood, perhaps sensing his discomfort. He moved slowly, hands held out to Anders. “Are you alright? Did he frighten you?”

“I’m exhausted, and it’s not even my heat.” Anders allowed Fenris to fuss briefly before pulling away. Shaking his head, he laid his staff against the wall and then moved back to his patient. “Right, let’s get you feeling better.”

“That strapping lad her mate?” The woman let out a sigh of relief as healing warmth curled over her hip.

“They are compatible, yes.” Anders gave a slight smile.

“And the elf?” The woman’s eyes twinkled.

“He’s...ah...he’s...my elf.” Anders sputtered over the words. “My Alpha.”

Fenris chuckled. “My mage.”

“Out of all the mages out there.” Anders muttered under his breath.

“That one is mine." Fenris finished, winking at the older woman who cackled in delight.

“You two are adorable.” The woman shook her head. “I feel better, Healer. Thank you. You can expect a scarf in a few weeks. Orange and cream. Yes. I think that’ll suit.” She pulled herself up from the cot and patted Anders’ face.

“You don’t have to.” He was smiling, fondness in his gaze.

“Affection should be shared. You’re a good one, make no mistake. Good luck with the young Omega. And good luck with your Alpha. He’s lucky to have found such a capable and compassionate mate.” The woman gave a stretch and then limped from the clinic, leaving Anders smiling in bemusement.

“Are all of your older patients like that?” Fenris moved to wrap his arms around Anders.

“Mm. Sometimes they’re cranky.” He leaned into the embrace. “Merrill’s going to be fine. I can feel your tension.”

“She said she hurts. Do you hurt during your heat?” Fenris sat them both down on the cot. “I am unsure if I can handle that.”

“I get restless. Antsy. Cranky. I want to clean everything. The clinic usually gets a good scrubbing. The hormones hit us all differently. Merrill gets body aches and weepy.” Anders shrugged a little.

“Will I lose my corpses, then?” Fenris teased.

“Perhaps.” Anders shuffled his feet. “Um. You should be aware that arousal is heightened. So…”

Fenris pressed a finger to Anders’ lips. “We will deal with that when it happens. There will never be any pressure.”

Anders dipped his head, staring at his hands. “In the Circle, when a mage hit their heat they would be taken to a room away from the other mages. There was a hallway down near the dungeons with rooms. An Omega in heat can pull other Omegas into heat so we were isolated during that time.”

“Anders…” Fenris reached for one hand.

“No. It’s ok. I get cranky, I told you that. Touchy and antsy. I had problems being kept in a room. After solitary it was almost unbearable. The Templars would get short with me. Forget my meals, wake me up by hitting me, slapping me across the face when I got mouthy…” Anders exhaled, shaking a little. Fenris ran his fingers lightly over the scars on his wrist, soothing him. “My first heat with the Wardens was so different.”

“Different how?” Fenris kept up the soothing touch, smoothing his fingers over the marred skin over and over again.

“Daithi didn’t leave me alone. He let me clean...stuck me in the pantry and told me to organize it. I think I scrubbed the bathing rooms down three times. When I’d get mouthy he’d gather up some people and we’d go down to the basement and set darkspawn on fire.” Anders gave a wry grin.

“You had darkspawn in the basement?” Fenris raised an eyebrow.

“We did. Well, until we got some Dwarven door closed. For a while it was the perfect training ground.” Anders glanced down at Fenris’ fingers. “Um, here I usually close the clinic for a few days. Clean it, try to meditate…”

There was a light tug on his arm and Anders glanced at Fenris. “Lie down with me.”

Anders thought to argue but then stretched out on the cot, curling on his side and exhaling as Fenris fit himself to his back. “Fenris…”

“Magisters do not take suppressants. When a heat hits, they use an Alpha. Ideally, the Alpha has ties to the Magisterium. In my case, Danarius used me during his heats. So did Hadriana. They were demanding, exhausting.” Fenris’ fingers flexed. “He never…after the first few heats he realized I was sterile.”

Anders’ pressed Fenris’ fingers to his stomach and patted. “I’m sorry.”

“I was useful. A sterile Alpha can service any Omega.” Fenris sighed. “I was a useful gift for those who won Danarius’ eye.”

“You mean he…” There was horror in Anders’ voice.

“Yes. Not often. My duties as bodyguard were the most important. Still, every so often I would be given to another mage to service them.” Fenris squeezed Anders. “On the bright side, I am very skilled.”

Anders wiggled around till he was facing Fenris. “I will never, ever push you. I swear.”

“And I will never push you.” Fenris leaned in to kiss Anders. It was gentle and sweet, loving. Warm. They allowed the kiss to break but settled into the cuddle with a sigh. There was a gasp from Anders’ room and then a long, low moan.

“I guess Hawke has decided that hands off is not an option.” Anders grumbled softly. “I should lock up…”

“Come home with me. If Hawke is here, she is safe.” Fenris ran his hands over Anders’ back.

“Doesn’t it remind you of servicing Danarius?” Anders worried at his lower lip.

“No. For one, you do not demand. You do not order. In fact, you actively fight to make me stop. And two, it is different with you. You are so... I do not wish to insult you.” Fenris closed his eyes. “But your past...it weighs heavily on me.”

“Are those the only two reasons?” Anders’ lips brushed over Fenris’, soft and sweet.

“No. They are not the only reasons.” Fenris smiled and kissed Anders again. “Come home with me.”

“Alright.” Anders sat up and flushed. “Alright. Let me just let them know what’s going on.”

***

The three days of Merrill’s heat passed uneventfully - other than Hawke taking up residence in the clinic with Merrill. After that first day, Anders retreated to Fenris’ mansion to get away from the courting going on. The days were fine enough - the clinic keeping Anders too busy to do much more than make sure Merrill and Hawke had food and Merrill had her suppressant. But at night, the sounds of them cuddling was too much.

He and Fenris would flee to the mansion.

There they talked, got comfortable being around each other, ate and teased and even played at times. Fenris had the oddest compulsion to make sure Anders wouldn’t lose his shirt in Wicked Grace, and Anders had discovered that Fenris couldn’t read much more than his name. So Fenris started teaching Anders how to best their friends at Wicked Grace, and in exchange, Anders started teaching Fenris how to read.

It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. And if they had to sit snuggled together, bodies pressed tight as Fenris explained strategy or Anders taught the alphabet, well….it was just an added bonus.

The three nights were eye-opening to Anders. Fenris didn’t hold him down, he didn’t restrict him, he didn’t try to force any issues. There were arguments still - mainly about magic and what it should and could be used for, the safety of mages as members of society, and how to best fix the problems of the Circle.

And when they grew tired, they curled up together. There was comfort there under the covers of Fenris’ bed. Comfort and acceptance and something more. A tendril of emotion that was blossoming between them. It was such a small thing, tender and delicate and oh so fragile. Anders wanted to wrap his hands around it, nurture it, watch it bloom.

It had been a long time since he had felt the slow unfurling of love, and he wanted to savor every single moment.

After three nights, going home with Fenris wasn’t even discussed. Neither was returning to the clinic in the morning. The only discussion revolved around food for the day, when Fenris would practice his sword play, and what kind of fool errands Hawke would drag them on next.

Day four saw Merrill packing up to return home. Three days had made Hawke and Merrill ensconced quite comfortably in Anders’ little room. His cot had gained a mattress, new pillows...better blankets.

“Keep them.” Hawke said airly, watching as Merrill folded her clothing. “You need them.”

“But…” Anders waved his hands at the mattress. “When did you bring it down?”

“The second night. I couldn’t take another night in that bed. How do you sleep in it?” Hawke smiled as Merrill brushed by him, her fingers trailing over his arm.

“Well, I used to sleep draped over my table...or a cot...or a few times standing up against a wall…” Anders scratched at his chin and glanced at Fenris. “But I will use the mattress now.”

Fenris simply smiled and hummed. “I will as well. Thank you, Hawke.”

“Oh well...the sheets are clean.” Now Hawke was blushing, his eyes bouncing around the room. “Mating urges hit us pretty hard. We almost…”

“They are strong.” Fenris agreed. “And can grip you before you even realize it.”

“Speaking from experience?” Hawke watched Fenris nod, the two of them exchanging a look of understanding.

“It’s not all roses on this side, you know.” Anders piped up.

Fenris chuckled. “You are correct, neither of us enjoy the sudden mating urge.”

“Maybe if you two would just…” Hawke started, stopping when Fenris turned on him.

“We are courting, Hawke. Courting. I will not push nor rush Anders. And you will not push or rush us.” There was a hint of violence to the words, a rumble of growling.

Hawke held up his hands, “Understood. I’m sorry.”

Merrill walked back into the backroom and blinked. “What happened while I was gone? And did you know Aveline is here?”

“Nothing and no.” Hawke said quickly.

“I don’t believe you.” Merrill glided closer to Hawke. “Garrett Hawke, you are not to push them.”

“Sorry, love.” Hawke drooped. “Is Aveline looking for me?”

“No. Fenris. She’s here asking if Fenris and Anders are here. I think it’s important.” Merrill turned worried eyes to Fenris. “Do you wish us to leave?”

“No. It is fine. Mage?” Fenris turned to look at Anders, who just offered a small smile and followed Fenris into the main clinic.

Aveline was pacing, her armor quietly clinking. She looked more than just pre-occupied - she looked mad. Her hands kept clenching, the sound of metal clicking with each fist made. Fenris stopped near her and simply waited, watching as her frown deepened. “Fenris.”

“Aveline. What has happened?”

“We had an incident near the Alienage. A young man was grabbed and beaten - he was slender with white hair. No markings, of course, but that didn’t seem to deter the bastards. Then it was a washerwoman in Lowtown. Then a maid in Hightown.” Aveline exhaled. “The maid managed to run, they gave chase, and we nabbed them. Tevinter slavers. They’re looking for you.” Aveline held up a hand when Fenris opened his mouth to respond. “Then last night, the Hanged Man had an incident. Varric’s fine but...rumors of you and he being friends…”

Hawke growled low in his throat. “Varric was attacked?”

“Unfortunately, in the Hanged Man. With half the guard rotation there celebrating a name day. We got the guys and they had this.” Aveline held out the paper to Fenris, who took it and opened it, head shaking.

“I can not…”

“Let me see.” Anders gently took the paper and perused it. “It’s in Tevene.”

“You can read Tevene?” Aveline scowled.

“Yes yes, evil apostate. Can read Tevene. Obviously I’m one step away from madness and crazed ranting. Or perhaps a great deal of our magical lore is written in Tevene, and if a mage wishes to study it, they must learn to read it.” Anders gave Aveline a bland look. For her part, the guardswoman looked apologetic.

Anders scanned the note. “It’s from a woman named Hadriana. She’s here in Kirkwall. A hightown address of all things - wow, they really will let anybody live there if they have the coin. It says to interrogate the elves in the Alienage because of your ties to Merrill, the dwarf at the Hanged Man, and to try to trace you in Hightown.” Anders snorted. “It’s amazing she didn’t try Darktown.”

“Would she have found any information down here?” Fenris looked at Anders with worry.

“You’ve been courting me pretty openly and the people here are protective. Plus, slavers on Coterie turf? I would have been inundated with injured.” Anders snorted. “This tells us where this Hadriana is.”

“I must...I have to…” Fenris’ voice broke. “Hawke, please. Go with me. Help me end her.”

“We’ll all go Fenris.” Anders moved to him, reaching for the Alpha instinctively. Fenris allowed himself to be hugged, resting against Anders’ chest. “All of us will make sure she is taken care of.”

“I’ll rearrange the guard patrols. You won’t be bothered tonight.” Aveline said. “I can’t go, but I can make sure no eyes follow you either.”

“Thank you, Aveline. For what you will do and for bringing this to me.” Fenris croaked out.

“No problem, Fenris. You need anything, let me know.” Aveline nodded at the room and left, her armor clanking into the gloom.

“We’ll take care of this, Fenris. We protect our own.” Hawke said on a nod.

“I will not leave you to handle this alone. I promise.” Anders whispered. “I promise, we’ll stop her and you will be safe.”

Fenris clung to Anders, his words soothing the anxiety and fear that had blossomed. “Finish helping Merrill, Hawke. We’ll meet you at the Hanged Man. Time to show Hadriana that the little wolf has grown some teeth.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hadriana is confronted - but the confrontation leaves Anders and Fenris at a crossroads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait! I have been working on edits on other stories and then Thanksgiving happened...needless to say, I'm back to writing!

They cornered Hadriana is an opulent room on the second floor of a Hightown mansion that was only one street down from Fenris. Black hair tumbling around a delicate, heart-shaped face, Hadriana was a dainty beauty covered in blood. Elven slaves lay crumpled on the floor, blood staining their corpses and the wood grain of the floorboards. Pale blue Orlesian silk wall hangings dripped with blood, the viscous fluid sprayed in wide arcs - proof of Hadriana’s power that had been bought at the price of each dead slave.

Now she lay crumpled in a puddle of blood, one slender-fingered hand reaching for a staff that had rolled away, a hand stomped on by Fenris. Pulling her up by the bodice of her ornate crimson robes, he growled low in his throat. “Where is he?”

“As if I’d tell you.” She spit in his face. “You think you’ve won, Fenris, but this is just a minor setback.”

“Your death happens whether you tell me or no.” Fenris bared his teeth.

“You don’t want to kill me. I have information.” Hadriana clutched at Fenris’ shoulders. “You have a sister. Did you know? Of course not. Danarius wiped your memory clean when he did his little ritual. I know you, Fenris. You want your memories back. How much will you pay to know her name? My life?”

“Your life.” Fenris agreed. “For the information.”

“My life and safe passage from this shithole for her name and location.”

Fenris smiled and pulled her closer. “The information?”

“Varania. Your sister’s name is Varania. She serves Magister Ahriman in Qarinus.” Hadriana smiled smugly. “A servant, Fenris. Not a slave.”

Fenris pursed his lips. Staring into Hadriana’s eyes, he nodded. “Thank you for that. However, I lied.”

“No…” Her hands scrabbled at his shoulders as he lit his brands, a fist slipping into her chest to crush her heart. A short scream of pain cut short into a gurgle and then silence. With a grunt, Fenris tossed her body away and stood, wiping the blood on his leggings. “Mages.” He spat.

“You have a sister?” Anders tentatively stepped forward.

“Perhaps. Hadriana always was a whore. A lying, deceitful bitch mage.” The words were raw. “Twisted by magic. Like all who use it.”

“Not all.” Anders took another step forward.

“All mages.” Fenris’ eyes settled on him, cold and calculating. “And what of you, mage?”

“What...what about me?” Anders stopped, stiffening.

His eyes narrowed. “Tell me. What has magic ever touched that it has not spoiled? Hmm? Are you not an abomination? Are you not...weak?”

“You don’t mean that.” Anders said.

“Oh, but I do. Tell me, Omega. How were you planning on using me?” Fenris pushed closer to Anders. “You act all shy, but I get you under me and you are just like the rest. Grasping. Lying.”

“I’ve never lied to you.” Anders took a step back.

“Not yet. Tell me, mage. Did you lie to me about your marks? About your wrist scars? Certainly I was willing to be swayed when you sat there practically naked.” Fenris’ voice was cold, even. “They look remarkably like blood mage marks.”

“No….I told you…” Anders shook his head.

“You honestly thought I’d trust an abomination?” Fenris laughed.

Anders gaped, eyes bouncing wildly around the room. Hawke moved to shield him while staring at Fenris. “You don’t mean that. He’s your mate.”

“Is he? Or have I been bewitched?” Fenris’ words were clipped. “What do you see in this room, Hawke?”

“Desperation.”

“I see inevitability. He is possessed. I could never love...how I ever could think...” Fenris stopped. “Bah. I am going home.”

“We should talk about this.” Anders tried again. “Please. Alpha…”

“Do not.” Fenris didn’t turn or stop moving. Anders watched him walk from the room.

“He’s just angry,” Hawke said. “He’s hurting.”

Anders patted a hand against his chest, the fingers fluttering. “I should...I should get back to the clinic.”

“Anders. Don’t pull away. Don’t hide.” Hawke reached out to lay one hand on his shoulder. “Talk to him. Give him time and talk to him. We’re going to explore this place. Do you want to stay and help or go?”

Anders swallowed. “I’d rather head back to my clinic.” He held it together until he reached the lift to Darktown, and then the tears slid down his face, soaking into his robe .

***

“He hasn’t left the mansion in three days.” Hawke’s feet scuffed through the dirt of the clinic floor, the cot he was perched on swaying precariously with each foot movement. “I have his portion. It’s enough to buy his way into the expedition with me. Hadriana was very wealthy.”

Anders shrugged, hands busy rolling clean cloth strips into bundles. “I haven’t spoken to him.”

“So that’s it, then?” Hawke glared at Anders. “One rough spot and what - you just give in?”

“You heard him. How often will this happen, Hawke?” Anders slammed his hands down on his table. “I am a mage. A mage. I was born like this. I can’t change it. And yes, I took a Spirit of Justice into myself. I am possessed. I am everything he fears.”

“Are you? Or is all this a convenient excuse? Another way for you to prove that you don’t need a mate. That you don’t want one.” Hawke had stood, pushing closer to Anders.

“You think this is what I want?” Anders threw one of the bundles of cloth at Hawke. “I’m falling in love with him. Even now. Even with that cold look and his words. I am…” Anders stopped and looked away. “I’m falling in love with him.”

“Then you need to talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to see me, Hawke.” Anders slumped back on his stool.

“You didn’t want him around you and look what happened.” Hawke shook his head. “Take him his portion. Tell him I expect him to buy into the expedition. And tell him you aren’t giving up.”

“That an order, almighty Alpha?”

“I can make it one.” Hawke watched Anders pale. “That was over a line. I apologize. No. It’s a suggestion only. Please?” Hawke held a small pouch out to Anders.

“Fine. But if he kills me, I’m going to tell you told you so.” Anders stood and straightened his robes.

“Fair enough, Anders. Fair enough.”

Grumbling, Anders closed the clinic. “You should talk to the broody elf,” he muttered to himself as he strode through Darktown. “He’s your Alpha and mate. Wouldn’t want him mad.” The muttering just made anxiety curl in his gut.

Quieting, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat, worrying at the smooth, thin fabric as he climbed stairs and kept his head down. Gradually, more of the sky was visible. The air was less burnt tasting. The buildings became cleaner, more ornate. Courtyards filled with trees and flowers met him instead of rickety market carts. Hightown bustled genteelly as he moved along its outskirts, stopping in front of a ramshackle mansion that sat at the end of a quiet street.

Lifting his chin, Anders pushed the door in and closed it behind him. He ignored the mess: the mushrooms, the dried corpses, the dust, and spiderwebs. Instead, he took the stairs two at a time and walked quickly down the hall, hesitated only a second in front of the familiar door, and then let himself into the bedroom.

“What do you want?” Fenris’ voice was rough. “Hawke sent you, did he not?”

“He did.” Anders said. At Fenris’ snort, he thinned his lips. “I’m not going to lie to you. He made me come.”

Fenris blinked blearily at Anders. Standing, he shuffled forward. “Damnidable mage.”

“Yes.” Anders nodded.

“With your...smell and your...eyes.” Fenris weaved where he stood, a bottle of wine sloshing as his hand caught it and sent it teetering to the edge of the table. “Mine.”

“Am I?” Anders shook his head and skirted around Fenris. “You’re drunk.”

“I am.” Fenris managed to pull himself up.

“Celebration?” Anders nudged the wine bottle back onto the table.

Fenris let out a huff, his knees folding under him as he fell to the floor. “Said things to you.”

“You were angry.” Anders lowered himself to the floor and watched Fenris.

“Hadriana. She tortured me. Hurt me to hurt me. Denied my meals. Hounded my sleep.” Fenris slammed his fist on the floor. “Her death was justice.”

“You’re right.” Anders felt a surge of otherness and nodded. “Her death was justice.”

Flinging his arms out, Fenris lit his brands. “Magic did this. I never wanted it. I do not want it. Magic tore my memory from me and made me this...thing.”

“You aren’t a thing, Fenris.” Anders crawled forward, heedless of the dirt and grit. “You aren’t.”

“I said things to you.” Fenris turned his head. “Called you abomination. They hurt you.”

“I...yes. They were just words. We can talk this out.” Anders stopped crawling to sit next to Fenris. “You aren’t the first to call me names.”

“You do not understand. If I can say them. If I can think them...what is to stop me from truly hurting you?” Fenris turned bleak eyes to Anders. “I hated you then. Your magic...fasta vass. I would have...I could have…”

“You didn’t. You got mad and said some things.” Anders touched Fenris’ wrist, fingers dragging over the metal of his gauntlets. “We all say things when we’re mad.”

Fenris shook his head. “How long before I resent you? How long before I find a reason to hate? You were right.”

“No. You’ve shown me I was wrong.” Anders’ eyes widened in understanding. “You’re breaking it off with me.”

“You are not safe with me, mage.” Fenris stood and walked back to the table. “I cannot be what you need.”

Anders sat there on the floor, eyes wide and heart pounding. “Hawke wanted me to give this to you.” He pulled the money pouch from his pocket and put it on the floor. “He said to buy into the expedition.”

“Why would I wish to do that?” Fenris wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t know. That’s all he said.” Anders stood, pulling himself back together. Tilting his head, he let a small smile grow. “I wouldn’t recommend it. I’m not looking forward to that trip.”

“So you will be going?” Fenris kept his eyes on the pouch of money.

“Only warden around. It’s always so nice to be needed.” Anders snorted. “It would be nice to have you with me.”

“Mage….we are not...I am not…” Fenris took a long drink, frowning as Anders gave a pained smile.

“See. You can’t just waltz into my life and make me feel like this and then think one bad moment is going to make me run. Karl and I had a lot of bad moments.” Anders cleared his throat. “I feel it. Here. In my chest. You’re my mate and I’m yours. Even Justice understands it.”

“I am not safe.” Fenris growled. “And you are not my mate.”

Anders toed the pouch and then nodded. “I guess I’ll have to woo you, then.”

“Mage.” Fenris gripped the wine bottle tightly.

Anders simply nodded. “I’ll see you at cards. Don’t be late or Hawke will come by.” He watched Fenris snarl and then turned, letting himself out of the room. A glance at the door, and he patted his chest, nodded as if speaking to somebody, and took the stairs slowly, thoughtfully, a slight smile on his face.

***

“I’ve brought him food, I’ve cleaned his rooms while he was out with Hawke, and I made one ill-advised foray into poetry.” Anders had his head in his hands as he talked.

“Blondie, I’m telling you. The man wants you.” Varric rubbed a hand over Anders’ back. “He does.”

“He yelled at me the last time.” Anders turned and glared at Varric. “Yelled at me. Used some pretty vicious language, and then threw a bottle of wine.”

Sighing, Varric sat back. “It may be time to go all out on this.”

“Oh no. No. We both agreed that was a terrible idea.” Anders sat up and shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Did I tell you he bought into the expedition?”

The words were said with casual nonchalance, Varric gazing at his hands while looking thoughtful. Anders’ breath backed up in his lungs. “No.”

“He did. Came in here muttering about mages who don’t understand the concept of safety. It’s interesting that he’s so worked up about this.” Varric caught Anders’ gaze and smiled. “He looked pretty conflicted. Told me not to breathe a word of any of this to you. So of course I’m telling you.”

“You’re terrible.” Anders rolled his eyes. “Makes no difference. He won’t talk to me.”

“And what will you two do down in the Deep Roads? Hmm? All I’m saying is that you should consider what this will mean to the expedition. Everybody has to work together or people are going to get hurt,” Varric said gently. “So go talk to him. Get his attention. You two don’t need to be back to where you were, but you do need to be on better terms.”

Closing his eyes, Anders nodded. “Is he out with Hawke now?”

“Hawke is busy packing for the expedition. I’m assuming you have nothing to pack?”

“You assumed correctly.” Anders stood. “Not like it rains in the Deep Roads.”

“Right. I’ll make sure you have a tent and bedroll. Now go see your broody Alpha before this gets worse.” Varric gave a wide smile.

“Fine. But if he pulls my heart out, your expedition will be short a warden. Naggy dwarf.” Anders muttered. “By Da.” Varric just chuckled and shook his head, returning to his expedition planning.

The walk to Fenris’ mansion seemed shorter - whether because the crowds were sparse or because he was dreading the upcoming talk, it was hard to say. The front door loomed in front of Anders, making his mouth go dry. Straightening his coat, he pushed the door in and closed it quietly behind him.

Even in the middle of the day, the mansion was gloomy. The pile of robes was finally gone - Anders having gone through it and donated what could be salvaged and destroying the rest. The corpses were also gone - victims of his attempts at tidying. The mushrooms and dust remained, visible markers of how little Anders had been able to do before he was warned from the mansion.

Slowly, he climbed the stairs and straightened his hair before entering into the bedroom. Fenris sat on the bed, hands held limply between his open legs. At Anders’ entrance, he looked up and sighed.

“Mage…”

“Look, before you start, let me talk.” Anders glanced around and finally went to get one of the chairs from the fire. Settling in it, he stared at Fenris and exhaled. “It’s about the expedition.”

“Fine. What do you need to tell me?” Fenris looked horrible, shadows under his eyes and skin wan.

“Are you not sleeping?” Anders tilted his head. “I can get you a draught.”

“Tell me what you need to, mage. Stop dithering.”

“Varric told me you’re going - as a partner. I...I need to know if you can work with me still. It will be dangerous down there and…” Anders rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t want you hurt because of this.”

“I see no reason why we would be in each other’s way. You are a mage, and I am a warrior. I will be at the front.” He stopped when Anders’ shook his head. “Mage?”

“I’m a warden...the warden for this trip. I will be heading it.” Anders pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know how. The Warden Commander...Daithi...he made sure we were all proficient in the Deep Roads.”

Fenris had stiffened. “You will be at the front?”

“I have my staff.” Anders gave a wry grin. “You’ve seen me use it.”

“I forbid it...you cannot….my mage is not allowed…” The words poured from Fenris before he could stop them.

“But I’m not yours anymore. Remember?” Anders stood. “I’m my own mage, and I have to lead. It’s what I’m being paid for, why Hawke even found me.”

“Anders.” Fenris stood as well, his eyes wide.

“You made it clear, Fenris. We can’t be together. If we aren’t together then you can’t give me any orders. I just need to know that you’ll listen to me.” Anders turned to leave.

“I will.” Fenris nodded.

“Good.” Anders touched the wood of the doorframe. “I could be yours again, if you wanted it bad enough.”

Fenris huffed. “If we survive this…”

“If we survive this, my jobs with Hawke are done.” Anders stepped through the door. “I will be able to focus more on my reasons for being in Kirkwall.”

“Does that mean I only have the expedition to decide?” Fenris’ voice was rough.

“We leave in three days. Don’t be late, Fenris,” Anders said before heading down the hall. The blue cracks that had started to form around his wrists eased. In his mind, Justice writhed with indecision between their ties to Fenris and their need to aid the mages. Pursing his lips, Anders let all thoughts drift from him as he stepped back out into the sun. Gazing up into the sky, he basked in the heat searing his skin, in the touch of wind and the smells of the city - grit and people, flowers and earthy stone . A final glance back at the mansion and he headed to the stairs that would take him towards Darktown.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Deep Roads...

“You’re the warden. Figure it out.” Those were the exact same words Anders had heard for the past week from Varric’s brother, Bartrand. Every little setback saw the cranky dwarf pushing into his face to demand better results, faster results.

Watching now as the Bartrand stalked away, Anders shook his head. “I don’t think he understands how it really works down here.”

“Bartrand only understands money.” Varric glanced up at him. “You alright?”

“Please. Your brother is a lot of things, but scary is not one of them. I checked the maps; between the marked passages and the info Bartrand has, I have a reasonable idea of where we are going. He’s not going to be happy, though.”

“No? Why?” Hawke asked.

“Because we’re going to have to leave this easy route. Means taking the smaller carts only. Also means an increase in darkspawn and blight.” Anders glanced at Hawke. “Tell our people to not touch anything that looks wet.”

“Got it. Bethany is wondering if you’re going to share her tent tonight.” Hawke’s eyes were sharp on him.

“No. I’ll be with the perimeter guards. Tell her to quit fussing. I’m our only warning should we have a darkspawn attack.” Anders rolled the maps up, storing them in a pouch at his hip. Smoothing a hand over his warden blues, Anders straightened. “I am only going to explain this once. None of you can question me. No nagging, no coddling, no Alpha/Omega dances. We’re in the Deep Roads. Despite everything, I am still the only warden here. You all promised to listen to me and abide by my rules.”

“We did.” The words were spoken after a short pause. “I apologize for pushing you.”

“Just go tell our group that we’re moving soon.” Anders glanced over at where Bethany stood with Fenris, Isabela, and Merrill. He caught Fenris’ gaze, clenching his jaw as the elf’s eyes seemed to blaze through him. “Be ready to fight if need be.”

Hawke nodded, face grim. There was no back slap or quick smile, just a curt tilting of his head before the bigger man stalked off. “He’s quite pissed.” Varric observed.

“He doesn’t like taking orders from an Omega.” Anders dismissed it as best as he could. “I’ve been around Alphas like that.”

“You don’t think it’s possible that he’s worried about you? You are looking a little pale. When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep? Ate a meal sitting down? Took a break?” Varric reached up to grip Anders’ arm. “You’ve lost weight.”

“There are no breaks in the Deep Roads. Not much sleep, either. Look, I know you mean well, but I’m being serious when I say I just can’t. I can feel the taint in my blood, just under my skin. How can I sleep or eat properly with that feeling?”

“And this has nothing to do with a certain broody Alpha?” Varric ran his fingers over the sleeve of Anders’ armor. “He wants you back, Anders. I can see it.”

“He knows what he needs to do. Look, Varric. I can’t focus on him and the Deep Roads. The last time I was down here was with a team, a group of trained wardens. We were able to sleep in shifts, we all understood what was at stake...understood the…” Anders lips clamped tight. “I don’t need to explain it to you. Even a surfacer knows what waits for a warden.”

“Yeah Blondie, I do.” Varric cleared his throat, looking down the avenue into the gloom. “Do what you have to do. I’m here for you.”

“After this, I’m done. No more Hawke expeditions. I told Fenris, either he gets over it or I’m done.” Anders rested a hand on Varric’s shoulder. “ I’d like to think I’ll still have you as a friend.”

Varric snorted and patted Anders’ hand. “I’ll head back to camp. Eat something, for me?”

“Yeah Varric. Yeah.” Anders turned and headed for the forward line, not stopping as he passed Hawke. He could feel Varric’s eyes on his back and then Fenris’. He didn’t stop, just straightened out the line of mercenaries and took up a relaxed position - one that would allow him to stand watch for most of what counted as night in the deep.

***

“This lyrium is corrupted.” It was the first words Fenris had spoken to him since that day on the surface. It seemed so long ago. Another lifetime.

Anders tilted his head, “It sings...off key.”

“Sings?” Fenris watched Anders lean towards the shard of red next to him, eyes glazed.

“Like...the blight. It sounds like…” Anders swayed forward and caught himself. “Maker’s breath. I need...I need to get out of here.”

He was caught by strong hands, Fenris grabbing and pulling him in. He struggled briefly, limbs tugging against a strength he couldn’t best. Finally, he sagged and then curled against Fenris. Face pressed to Fenris’ neck, Anders sobbed once and grew silent. “Shhh. I have you.”

“So tired.” Anders whispered. “But the song never stops. It grows louder, ringing. And when I close my eyes, all I see are the darkspawn.”

“Warden nightmares?” Fenris’ hands were a soothing heat against Anders’ back.

Anders pulled back slowly, putting space between them. “Always. Am I needed?”

“No. No...I…” Fenris shuffled. “Noticed you have not been resting.”

“And?”

“I came to see if you could now. We are not needed while they explore and…” Fenris huffed. “May I offer you the use of my tent? I will stand guard.”

“I should be with the exploring group. There could be darkspawn,” Anders said, looking down at his boots.

“You told us the area was free of Darkspawn. Come Anders. A little rest, some food.” Fenris rubbed lightly at his breastplate. “It would...I would be…”

Anders breathed out a laugh, short and nearly silent. “A short one. But only because you asked so nicely.”

Fenris’ small smile made something warm in Anders’ chest. “I will stand guard. You are safe. I swear it.” Anders’ answering smile was brilliant, a flash of sparkle before he turned and made his way to Fenris’ tent.

***

Dank, festering rot. Anders prodded it with the tip of his staff and shook his head. “Blight. Don’t touch it.”

“What can we touch?” Varric’s voice waivered.

“Step where I step.” Anders didn’t answer him, head tilted to the side as he listened - not to the echoes of their steps, not to the drips of water or the flow of lava - he listened for the quiet chitters in the back of his mind. The black whispers that heralded the darkspawn. When he heard nothing, he peered down the tunnel and took the stone’s measure.

“This way.” He decided.

“Why that way?” Fenris’ voice drifted to him.

“This is deliberate stonework, not a darkspawn tunnel. If I’m reading the maps correctly, we should intersect with a road that we can use.” Anders glanced back, face grey with dust and lack of sleep. “We need to make that road.”

Bethany gave a grumble. “And then we can camp?”

“And then we can camp.”Anders’ smile softened. “I promise.”

“How long have we been gone, do you think?” Hawke wrapped an arm around Bethany.

“By my count, a month and two days. A week and a half since Bartrand betrayed us.” Anders started down the tunnel. “If my calculations are correct, we’ll find our way out in another week or two.”

“Will our supplies last that long? We’re nearing the end of our food.” Hawke sounded worried.

Anders didn’t stop moving. “We won’t starve. I swear it.”

The group, as one, grumbled at the words. Anders couldn’t quite hold back his smile at the sound. The grumbling sounded familiar - like being with Daithi again on their first real delving into the Deep Roads. He had groaned at what his fellow warden, Oghren, placed in front of him - some sort of deepstalker and mushroom soup. It hadn’t been as bad as it looked, but it hadn’t been great either. Shaking his head, he led them down the stone tunnel and towards an opening he could see ahead.

An opening that led to a broad avenue. Well-fitted stones formed the road. The rock was carefully carved into tall walls and pillars. A long trench of lava flowed down one side providing light and warmth. Anders looked around, took a deep breath, and smiled. “We’ll camp here, against the wall. Regular watches.”

“Will you actually sleep tonight?” Varric had stopped next to him.

“Probably not.” Anders watched the group drop their belongings and begin to set camp. “Even though the darkspawn aren’t close enough to sense I still...the song. It’s louder here. And the nightmares worse.”

“There’s a song?” Varric tilted his head as if trying to hear something faint. “Is it the stone or something?”

“No Varric. It’s not the stone.” Anders stared down the road and frowned. “It’s hard to explain. Go set up your tent. I’ll be fine.”

“When was the last time you actually slept?” The words were soft, gentle.

“I can sleep when we’re finally free of this place.” Anders returned his gaze to the group, catching Fenris watching him. “I promise, Varric. I’m fine.”

“If you say so, Blondie. But I expect you to actually eat something. You’ve lost more weight and you were pretty skinny to begin with,” Varric said.

Anders’ lips twitched up into a smile. “Yes Da.”

***

“You have not slept.” The voice had Anders lifting his head. Fenris slid from the shadows near a pillar, quiet and slow. “You barely ate.”

“None of you would thank me if I slept down here,” Anders said. “My nightmares would call to any predators around.”

“You cannot keep going like this. You will fall ill.” Fenris stopped in front of Anders, a frown on his face.

“Not your concern,” Anders reminded him.

Crouching, Fenris gazed into Anders’ eyes. They sat there, taking each other’s measure, before Fenris reached out with one hand to drag a finger down dirty skin. “Is it not?”

“You tell me.”

“You put such faith in me, Anders.” Fenris spoke softly. “For so long you fought against any sort of courtship. And now...after what happened with Hadriana, you fight to keep me with you. You are a very confusing mage.”

Anders swallowed. “Perhaps. You’ve seen me at my worst, now I’ve seen you at yours.”

Fenris’ finger stroked over Anders’ chin, the rasp of stubble a scratchy hiss between them. “I could hurt you.”

“I could hurt you.” Anders reminded him. White-blue cracks spiraled up Anders’ arms, fade power bleeding from him. “We could hurt you.”

“Would you?” Fenris dropped his hand to stroke over the cracks, Anders shivering under the touch. “Honestly. Would you and Justice hurt me?”

“No.” It was whispered. “But...our goals…”

“You think I would allow you to throw your life away? That I would allow Justice to take you?” Fenris gave a tight smile. “If you were mine, he would not have that opportunity.”

“If…” Anders swayed forward, his scent spiking as hope unfurled in his chest.

“If…” Fenris cupped Anders’ cheek. “You would not be allowed to turn Hawke down on jobs.”

“Perish the thought of actually saying no to that man.” Anders gave a soft laugh. “I may have...exaggerated…”

“Mage.” Fenris breathed out the word. “When we return, may I...finish courting you?”

“Back to the beginning, then?” Anders let himself be pulled closer, his lips quirking up in a smile.

“No.” The word ghosted over his lips. “I will finish courting you and then claim you. I swear.”

The kiss was just a brush of lips, hesitant and sweet. A promise. When Fenris pulled back, eyes dark with want, Anders exhaled slowly “I will finish this when we are safe. I...cannot...say no to you.”

Anders gave a soft laugh and pushed forward to kiss Fenris again, relief filling him as Fenris opened and let him in.

***

The sun was high overhead, wind brisk and warm. Anders stuck his head through the cave entrance, listened, and then laughed. And kept laughing as he burst into the fresh air, as he pulled at his armor, pieces falling to the ground till he was barechested in the sun. Lifting his hands, he let out a yell - a loud “huzzah” that made birds take flight. The group slowly emerged behind him and watched with open mouths as he fell to his knees, his laughter turning to tears, his face pressed tightly to the sparse grass.

“Is he alright?” Bethany clutched her dirty hands together.

“I don’t know.” Hawke gazed up at the sky. “Though I can understand a small bit of what he’s feeling.”

“Anders.” Fenris ignored the group, stepping forward. “Are you well?”

“We made it. We made it, Fenris. Nobody seriously injured, nobody tainted...we made it out.” Anders sobbed the words, rocking. “Oh Maker, how I prayed while we were down there. Please, please let me lead them to safety. Take my life instead of theirs...and we all made it.”

Fenris dropped to his knees, pulling Anders’ up. “We made it because of you.”

Throwing himself forward, Anders clung to Fenris. Shoulders shook as the sobs poured from him, harsh and wet. “I’m so sorry, Fenris. I’m so sorry.”

“Hush. I am the one who is sorry.” He maneuvered them both down so that he was sitting with Anders curled against him. “You are hysterical and require rest. I suggest we make our way down this hill and find someplace with clean water. Merrill, can you and Varric hunt?”

“Of course, Lethallin.” Merrill’s smile was wide. “Isabela can scout ahead.”

“Damn straight. Give me five minutes. Ten tops.” Isabela gave a perky salute and disappeared down the hill.

“We’re rich.” Varric rubbed his bulging satchel. “Rich. What are your plans, Hawke?”

“Buy back the estate, petition for Fenris to be named nobility and his estate given to him, get Anders’ clinic outfitted better. Move Merrill in and mate. Children.” Hawke wrapped an arm around Merrill, who giggled.

“If we regain our title, well…” Bethany flushed. “Saemus can get approval to court me.”

“Right.” Hawke frowned and then shook his head.

“You wish to name me nobility? I am a former slave.” Fenris was staring daggers at Hawke, who just laughed.

“You rescued the Viscount’s son with me and have been responsible for a major decrease in crime in Hightown. I am asking you to gain the position of nobility and your mansion deeded to you. I think I can get Dumar to do it. He owes me. Keeps having me bandy words with the Qunari.” Hawke grinned. “Come on, Fenris. You’ll be able to protect Anders this way.”

“Your words have merit, Hawke.” Fenris ran a hand over Anders’ hair, who simply sighed and shifted. “Hush, he has drifted to sleep.”

“Poor dear,” Merrill whispered.

The rest sat down to wait, eyes up on the sky. Fenris rocked Anders slowly, hands brushing back hair covered in sweat and dirt. Anders shifted again, nuzzling closer to Fenris. They stayed that way till Isabela came back.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders' Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Smut! Yes...there is finally some smut.
> 
> You are welcome.

“You’ve only been back two weeks.” Jeb watched as Anders counted healing potions. “And you’re closing again?”

“Just for three or four days, Jeb. It’s necessary,” Anders said. “Marta will be here, there are enough potions, it’ll be fine.”

“Where are you going, Anders? You were gone for two months with that Ferelden Alpha.” The words were filled with disapproval.

“Jeb, they needed me on that expedition. I saved lives.” Anders grabbed enough suppressant for his Heat, packing it in a small bag before turning to frown at the Beta. “What is this about?”

“Anthony is courting.” Jeb kicked at the floor. “She’s lovely but…”

“Look Jeb. I know you like me. I know you were hoping Anthony and I would get together.” Anders looked up at the sound of a throat clearing, smiling at Fenris. “But I have an Alpha.”

“The elf?” Jeb blinked. “The homicidal elf?”

“Is there a problem?” Fenris flowed across the floor, stopping next to Anders. “You are Jeb, correct? I am Fenris.”

“Ah. Yes. Nice to meet you.” Jeb swallowed as Fenris’ scent filled the clinic. The Beta visibly wilted under the challenging stare. “I’m sorry.”

“Anders is to be my mate.” Fenris’ challenging stare settled into preening. “We are courting.”

“You’re...you’re courting?” Jeb gaped at Anders. “Courting?”

Ignoring Jeb, Fenris turned and began to fuss, “Are you ready? Do you have what you need?”

“Yes. I think. I mean, I can always…” Anders quieted, flushing as Fenris wrapped an arm around his waist.

“You will not return until your Heat is over. Jeb, it was nice to meet you, but I must get Anders home now.” Fenris gently took Anders’ bag from him. “Your clinic is in good hands. Come now, mage. You should be resting.”

Jeb closed his mouth and full-on grinned at Anders. “Well then. I feel confident that you’re in good hands. Have a fun next few days.” He hopped up and waved, sauntering from the clinic.

“Was that necessary?” Anders groused, allowing himself to be led from the clinic. Fenris didn’t respond, simply closed the clinic doors and held out his hands for the key. Anders sighed, handed the key over, and watched as Fenris locked the clinic. “Well...I hope you don’t mind me cleaning.”

“As long as you are safe and with me, I do not mind.”

***

“Mage.” Fenris drew out the endearment, exhaustion and exasperation filling his voice. “What are you doing?”

“Scrubbing the windows. Look at how much light comes in with the glass clean!” Anders leaned up on his toes, chair creaking under him as he scrubbed hard at a corner. The entire downstairs foyer was free of corpses, mushrooms, robes, and dirt. All of the dirt seemed to have migrated to Anders, who was more dusty brown than pale skin.

“I know I told you Hawke was petitioning to make the mansion mine but is this not too soon?” Fenris frowned at all the clean glass. “You will fall. Get off that chair.”

“I’m fine.” Anders ignored him and scrubbed harder, stopping only when the glass shimmered. “Better. Yes. Better.”

“What, exactly, does cleaning help with?” Fenris wondered allowed.

“Oh well. I get this need under my skin to...to nest. When my Heat hits I want to clean and fluff and...and…” Sharp teeth sank into Anders’ lower lip as he turned anguished eyes to Fenris. “For the babies.”

Fenris choked as understanding hit him.

“Enchanter Wynne told me this is normal with Spirit Healers. We are very maternal. Fussy with our children and...hmm, I need a bath. Which will dirty the tub...I should bring the cleaning soap upstairs,” Anders said, stiffly climbing from the chair.

“I am sorry, Anders. Even if you were not a Warden...I am pretty sure I am sterile.” Fenris reached for Anders’ arm. “You get your soaps. I will draw the water for your bath.”

“You don’t have to,” Anders said, tears in his eyes even as his lips smiled.

Fenris responded by pulling him down and into a gentle kiss. Anders didn’t hesitate, just snuggled against Fenris’ chest and clung, gasping softly as a sob blew from his lips. Instead of speaking, Fenris kissed him again, nuzzling his head to the side to press light kisses to Anders’ neck. “We shall both need a bath at this rate. Get your soaps, Anders. We will bathe and then see how you feel.”

***

“I’m bored.” Anders dropped the book he was holding, face screwed up into a scowl.

“Go scrub something.” Fenris didn’t move from his spot by the fire, finger trailing slowly under a sentence as he muddled through his own book.

Huffing, Anders threw himself back on the bed. “I don’t want to clean. I’m bored.”

“You are whining. It is unattractive.” Fenris didn’t lift his head, though a smile curled up his lips.

“I miss Daithi. He’d take me down to the basement to hit darkspawn. Or he’d spar with me.” Anders propped a hand under his chin. “Or he’d take me out to the forest for a walk.”

“He allowed you to be out while you were in Heat?” Fenris blinked at Anders, eyes wide. “That is unsafe.”

“Bah. Nathaniel and Sigrun went with us. And when Justice joined, he went as well. Who’s going to argue with a group of wardens? Especially when it’s two Alphas, a Beta, and a Spirit of Justice?” Anders snorted. “We would hike till I was tired, camp, tell stories...anything to distract.”

Slowly, Fenris put his book down. “Get your staff.”

“What?” Anders sat up.

“Your staff. Get it and join me in the foyer. We shall spar.” Fenris stood and went to retrieve his sword. A glance at Anders and he pulled off his tunic, leaving himself in just his leggings. “No magic, martial attacks only. No blood. I will use the flat of my blade.”

Anders rolled from the bed and picked up his staff, working at a leather strap on one end. “I’ll remove my blade, then.”

Fenris nodded, his eyes gleaming. “I look forward to besting you.”

“Brave words, Alpha. Brave words.” Anders fairly sashayed past Fenris, hips swaying teasingly. “Are we wagering?”

“Mm. I win, you shall pleasure me with your mouth. You win, I shall pleasure you.” Fenris followed Anders, moving till he was right behind his mage. Stroke a hand over Anders’ hip, he leaned up on his tiptoes, “I will not consummate our relationship with you on your Heat, but there are other ways I may touch you. If you are agreeable.”

Mouth open, Anders nodded. “I...yes. I agree.”

“Good. Now, to the foyer. Three rounds. I believe that is fair.” Fenris pinched Anders’ hip as he moved past him. “No cheating, Mage.”

“You say that as if I need to cheat. As if I am not a warrior in my own right.” Anders followed Fenris down to the foyer.

“You are a battle mage, yes.” Fenris brandished his sword. “But you are no warrior.”

Anders took up a defensive position, staff held in both hands and knees bend slightly. “I look forward to proving you wrong.”

Fenris gave a toothy grin and charged.

***

“Hold still, Fenris. I can’t heal your chin if you keep wiggling like that.” Anders was kneeling next to Fenris, hands trying to touch a large bruise. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was a fair hit. I was too slow, too over-confident.” Fenris sighed and forced himself to relax. “I did not expect you to actually punch me.”

Anders tried to swallow down his grin, fingers ghosting over swollen skin. Fenris let out a choked sound, making Anders flinch. “I’m sorry. Almost done. Did I touch your lyrium?”

“Magic usually hurts. This...does not.” Fenris gripped Anders’ wrist. “I am fine. Continue.”

“It hurts?” Anders sat back, fingers still stroking Fenris’ chin. “Always?”

“Danarius’ spells hurt. Bethany’s are like little pricks of pain. Merrill’s is hot and hurts if I stand too near. But your magic feels cool and soothing.” Fenris gave a small smile. “My mage is very talented.”

“Did you just praise my magic?” Anders’ eyes widened, mouth gaping open.

“I believe you are the clear winner. Shall we head upstairs?” Fenris slowly stood, holding a hand out for Anders.

“You don’t have to...I mean...the wager…”

“If you are afraid, I will not.” Fenris smiled down at Anders. “But I wish to pleasure you. The wager was a win win.”

“Oh well, when you put it that way…” Anders stood. “Should I bathe? ‘m sweaty.”

Fenris stepped in close, hands clutching at Anders’ hips. Inhaling, he shook his head. “You smell amazing. Let me take you upstairs. I wish to hear your moans of pleasure.”

“I’m not calling you Alpha while we’re in bed.” Anders tried a small smile.

“You are still nervous.” Fenris walked up the stairs behind Anders. “You should not be. I will not force you, nor will I push you. No mating till you are no longer on your Heat. You will come to me of your own free will, not because you feel drawn through...urges.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” Anders stepped into what had become their room.

“I do.” Fenris hesitated and then stepped close to Anders. “May I undress you?”

“Ah...yes. Yes you may…”

Fenris glanced at Anders before holding his hand out, gesturing at the staff. Anders handed it over, watching as Fenris placed it and his sword near the bed against the wall. Fingers flexing, he held himself still as Fenris moved back to him, as fingers brushed over the ties to his tunic before pulling it off of him.

The feeling of Fenris’ fingers over the ties of his pants had Anders inhaling sharply. Want surged through him, want and the sudden, knee-bending need to mate. Whining, he pulled back and finished unlacing his pants, shoving them and his smalls down.

Fenris’ hummed in appreciation. “On the bed, Anders. On your back for me.”

He just managed to stop the “yes Alpha” from leaving his mouth. Instead, he hurried to comply, sprawling back on the bed and watching as Fenris peeled off his tight leggings. His breath caught, stifled in his chest as all of Fenris was laid bare.

“You’re...you’re beautiful.” Anders flushed as the words left his mouth.

Fenris simply quirked his lips into a half-smile and stalked to the bed. Standing next to Anders, he slowly stroked himself. “I can smell your arousal. It is…” He swallowed. “I swear I will not take you.”

“I trust you.” Anders whispered, holding out a hand. “Please...touch me?”

“Mage. I plan to do more than simply touch.” Fenris slid onto the bed, covering Anders and drawing him into a kiss. Surprisingly sweet and gentle, the kiss slid from lips to whiskered jaw, to Anders’ throat. Fenris nuzzled him at the join of shoulder and neck, teeth worrying lightly at the skin. “I will mark you here when it is time.”

“Oh please, oh please.” Anders arched his head back. “Please…”

“Not yet, Anders. Hush.” Fenris dragged teeth over sensitive skin once more before slipping down Anders’ body, nudging his thighs apart. Humming, he nuzzled Anders’ cock with his lips and nose, smiling when Anders whined.

The first lick had Anders’ nearly arching off the bed. Then lips and mouth swallowed him down, a slow, wet glide that left Anders gibbering and Fenris nearly purring. Licking and sucking, Fenris drew out Anders pleasure till the moans and whimpers were continuous. He kept Anders there on the edge, blissfully writhing - lips and teeth and tongue working over his length while hands cupped and fondled his balls.

It was the press of one finger combined with a sudden, hard suck that had Anders shouting in surprise. Fenris pulled back at the last second, Anders’ spend coating his chin and chest. “That’s it, Anders. Yes. So good.” Fenris praised, stroking Anders till he could do nothing more than twitch.

Anders gazed in shock at Fenris, eyes wide, before surging up to press their lips together and push Fenris over. Fenris fell to his side, rolling with Anders now on top. Grinning, Anders dipped his head down and licked a stripe up Fenris’ neck.

“Mage…” Fenris’ rasped, voice ragged.

“Mm?” Anders continued down Fenris’ chest, lapping up his spend, nibbling at dark skin, pressing open mouth kisses.

“Anders, you should stop.” Fenris groaned. Anders simply rolled his hips, already growing hard again. “Mage...how…”

“Warden. Heat. The one time I ended up aroused during my Heat it was...intense.” Anders rolled his hips again, dragging his length over Fenris’ leg. “Want you.”

Fenris responded by pulling Anders down into a biting kiss. They strained against each other, hips bucking. Holding tightly to Anders, Fenris rolled them both and nuzzled Anders’ neck. “I can think of a few ways to fix this.”

“Oh please...yes…” Anders arched his head back. “Maker. Mate me...mate me now.”

“No.” Fenris pulled back. “Anders. No.”

“Do you not want…”

“I want you so bad it hurts. But I will not mate you during your Heat. I have to hear you say yes, not beg because we are aroused.” Fenris cupped Anders’ face. “Look at me.” Anders wheezed out a breath and gazed up into Fenris’ eyes. “I will mate you. I swear.”

“And what about now?” Anders writhed, hips bucking up. “Fenris?”

“I will not mate you...but…” A devilish smile curled Fenris’ lips up. “There are other ways to satisfy us both.”

***

“I’m rather shocked I’m going to say this but...I really don’t want to return to my clinic,” Anders said.

“I do not wish you to return.” Fenris admitted.

They were curled under the covers, bodies entwined, both sated and tired. Fenris stroked fingers over Anders’ stomach, breath warm against his shoulder. Anders’ breath hitched. “I can’t believe you rode me. Didn’t that make you think of Danarius?”

“He only liked me on my knees. Never like that: holding him down, staring into his eyes. Never would he have worried over my pleasure as you did. Never did he make sure I crested.” Fenris ran a soothing hand up Anders’ chest. “I enjoyed it.”

“I did too.” Anders laughed. “You wore me out. Hey Fenris?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you. This...all of this. It’s the most comfortable I’ve ever been. Even with Daithi it felt...awkward. He was mated; he had an Omega to take care of. I was just there...but you…” Anders’ voice drifted away.

“You are mine as much as I am yours. After Hadriana, I did not think I would have this chance. Did not think I would deserve it.” Fenris admitted. “I will not squander this.”

“Are you really going to be nobility?”

“Bah. Probably. Hawke always gets his way. Does that please you?” Fenris bit Anders’ shoulder gently.

“I’m happy we’ll have this place as our home. Do you think the basement goes to Darktown?” Anders rolled over, voice hopeful.

“We shall see, Anders. If so, then yes - you may turn a basement room into your clinic.” Fenris sighed when Anders covered his face in kisses. “Mage. You should be sleeping.”

“So bossy.” Anders teased.

“Somebody must take care of you.” Fenris tried for firm, but only managed content. “Would you read me a story if you cannot sleep?”

“Hard in Hightown?” Anders rolled from the bed, rummaging through the stack of books on their table.

“We read that one.”

“Swords and Shields?”

“Is it as bad as it sounds?” Fenris asked with a slight sneer.

“Probably. However, we haven’t read it yet.” Anders brought the book back to bed with him.

“Oh fine.” Fenris huffed.

“This looks a lot like Aveline.” Anders turned the book over and showed Fenris the front cover, who just grumbled.

“Right, well then. Hah. It all started in Hightown. Of course it started in Hightown…” Anders started.

“Should start in the sewers.” Fenris yawned. “Is that not where Hawke likes to go?”

“No interrupting. It all started in Hightown…” Anders started again.

Fenris just chuckled and snuggled closer.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is it! The final chapter! 
> 
> Seriously - so many thanks and hugs to emotionalmorphine for aiding me through this story.
> 
> And many thanks and hugs to all of you who have read this, commented, left kudos. Seriously, thank you.

Anders made a note in a small book, tapping the tip of his pen against his chin while perusing his potions. Another note was scribbled down, nose wrinkling at what he read. “Well, we’re short on everything.”

“If the collective population of Darktown would stop coming down with a fever, we’d have a chance to restock,” Marta said with a sigh. “Would help if there was more clean water.”

Anders grunted. “We’ll need more embrium and elfroot for sure. Deep mushroom too.”

“Is it worth it to restock when we’re moving?” Marta asked, folding sheets and stacking them on a small table. “All those little bottles.”

“Maker. I don’t know.” Anders stopped to gaze around his clinic. “Is it a good idea? Should I do this? I don’t know…”

Marta put down the sheet and went to stand next to Anders, reaching up to smooth her hand down his arm. “Hey now. I thought you were all excited about mating. You came back from your Heat positively sparkling. There’s a great space in his basement for our work. You’ll be safe.”

“You’ll have a place to live that’s better than a tent.” Anders added, rubbing at his forehead. “I’m an idiot for worrying.”

“You’ve been alone a long time.” Marta leaned against his arm. “You do so much for us down here; you work so hard. You took me in, gave me a purpose.”

“Marta, stop.”

“Anders. What’s bothering you about all this?” Marta gazed up at him.

Anders bit his lip, worrying at the skin. Fenris chose that moment to walk through the clinic door, slowing when he saw Marta nestled against Anders. Jealousy flashed across his face, a brief downturn of lips and tightening around his eyes, before his expression smoothed into understanding and then amusement.

“He is worrying.” Fenris sauntered forward. “My mage is a worrier.”

Before Anders could open his mouth, Marta grinned and straightened. “Truer words. He thinks we’re imposing.”

“Imposing? In my dusty basement that is not used?” Fenris raised an eyebrow. “And it is my basement. I just signed the deed.”

Anders blinked, one hand reaching out for Fenris. “So…”

“The mansion is mine. The name Fenris was written on the title and that is the name I shall use.” A rare smile split Fenris’ face. “Danarius will be unhappy to know that his favorite pet is now the owner of his mansion and official named nobility.”

Marta bobbed a curtsy and laughed at the shock on Fenris’ face. “Well then, good Messere. Perhaps you could convince your soon-to-be Mate to relax?”

Cocking an eyebrow, Fenris leveled a look at Anders. “What is worrying you?”

“Bringing magic into your house. Marta living in the basement. My clinic in your basement…” Anders ticked the items off on his fingers.

“One, you are a mage. My mage. And as such, your magic belongs in our house. Our house, Anders. Not mine. Two, Marta is a smart choice for tending to the bottom basement rooms. She knows your work and has proven herself trustworthy. Three, your clinic is in our basement. Where you will be safe. Which is my primary goal.” Fenris glided forward. “As for the soon-to-be-Mate part. Well.” He wrapped one strong around Anders’ waist.

“What?”

“It has been how long since your Heat?” Fenris squeezed gently.

“Ah, a month.” Anders’ mouth had gone dry. “Why?”

Marta gave a chuckle. “He’s decided we need more potions and poultices, Messere. I think we should wait to worry over them till after the move. If you just tell me when, well, I’d like to scrub down the rooms first.”

“Not necessary. The moment I signed the paperwork, Varric had workmen descend on the mansion. Their first step was to clean the basement rooms. All of them. They are scrubbing now and should be done in a week’s time. We shall move the clinic then.” Fenris ran his hand up Anders’ spine. “And stay in the basement till the rest of the mansion is done.”

“And until the rooms are cleaned?” Anders rasped.

“I shall stay here with you, of course. You will no longer be alone, Anders. I am claiming you as mine. Permanently.”

Marta chuckled at the stunned look on Anders’ face. “In the clinic?”

“I can wait till we are in the mansion to...consummate...the joining. But my being here cements it. Anders, you must agree to this.” Fenris watched as fear and hope and joy cycled on Anders’ face.

“I knew you were serious but…” Anders whispered. “I hadn’t thought to hope...to wish beyond…”

“Is that a yes?”

Anders gave a breathy laugh. “It’s a yes, you blighted Alpha. A yes.”

***

“I think this is the last box of potion vials,” Marta said as she put down a small wooden crate, her hand going to rub her lower back. “And that is that.”

Anders brushed her hand out of the way and began to rub circles into her lower back. Heat blossomed as he worked a gentle healing spell into her muscles. Her sigh of relief had him smiling. “Better?”

“Best boss in Thedas.” The words were half whispered, half moaned.

The pay is shit.” Anders chuckled.

“I’m getting room and board out of this. Your Alpha has designated a stipend for the clinic - to be delivered monthly. Part of that is for groceries, of which I get to eat.” Marta blinked up at Anders as he gawked. “Did you not know?”

“I...he did...what?” Anders gibbered.

“The other day, while you were in here organizing the new cots. A dwarf came down to the old clinic - fancy clothes, lots of chest hair. Handsome. I’ve seen him with your Hawke friend. He said he’s Varric Tethras, but why would Varric Tethras be in the sewers?”

“Because Varric Tethras is a close friend of mine.” Anders rubbed at his chin and then grinned as Marta wobbled.

“I yelled at him. Called him a liar at first. Oh Maker.” Marta was clutching her neck.

“He’s used to it. Fenris throws things at him on occasion. So what did Varric want?”

“He said your Alpha asked for coin to be delivered to the clinic, to me, every month. And I was to use it for food and supplies.” Marta began pacing. “I didn’t believe him at first. Smooth talker, you know? But then he started talking about you and…”

“Marta, it’s ok.” Anders reached for her, pulling her close and into a hug. “I’m sorry he worried you.”

“I tell you, Anders. It was the Maker’s luck that you found me and took me in. I thought for sure I’d die down here. Now I have a home, food...I make a difference. You gave me that.” Marta sniffled.

Anders sighed and patted her back, letting her sob into his chest. A sound had him looking up and spying Fenris hovering in the doorway. He tilted his head, watching as Fenris flushed.

“Is something the matter?” Fenris shifted nervously before stepping into the clinic.

“Oh! Messere Fenris. Thank you. Thank you so much.” Marta pulled away from Anders and fairly flew across the clinic, running into Fenris and wrapping him in a hug. “You are a true gift.”

Fenris’ ears were bright red and flicking gently. His hands hovered over Marta’s back, a look of unease on his face. “Mage.” He choked. “Help.”

“Oh. I am so sorry. Oh please, I am so sorry.” Marta pulled back, wringing her hands.

“No. It is I who should apologize. I am not comfortable with much touch. It just...you surprised me. I am grateful for the work you do with Anders.” Fenris fumbled for a moment.

“I know I’m grateful.” Anders gave a rueful smile and smoothed back his hair. “Nobody else can put up with me.”

Marta rolled her eyes. “We’ve finished moving the clinic, now we just need to set it up. Shouldn’t take long. Well, for the cots and whatnot. The potions have to be organized and put away. Always such a pain.”

“Marta, if you can be spared for a moment, I would like to show you your room. It is up one level. I endeavored to have a washroom set up for you as well.” Fenris watched with some amusement as Marta gave a happy little bounce. “Come. Allow me to show you. Anders, I will be back after to show you our rooms.”

“Er, alright.” Anders glanced around at the mess of items. “I’ll just start...rearranging.”

Fenris gave a short laugh. “You will be unable to overwork now, Anders. Not with your clinic being here.”

Marta patted Fenris’ shoulder. “Knew you were a good one. I’m all set. Anders, don’t overdo it.”

“Blasted bossy Alpha and Beta.” Anders muttered. He caught them laughing and flushed, scowling even as his eyes twinkled with laughter. It was with a spring in his step that he started organizing the cots.

***

“This is quite the clinic,” Anthony said as he strolled through the door, a young woman at his side. Anders looked up from his patient and smiled in greeting.

“Give me a moment and I’ll be with you, Anthony. And you, quit antagonizing the Carta. This is the third time I’ve seen you this month.” Anders chided the young woman on his cot.

“Blighted dwarves think they own that corner. That’s my corner, it is.” The woman gritted out, watching as Anders healed the long slice in her leg.

“Is it your squat?” Anders didn’t look at her, just bent to his task.

“I’ve tried everywhere. Nobody wants a single mum near their men. I got a job now, but nobody’ll rent to a Ferelden.” The woman sighed. “That corner’s a good one. Near water, has shelter. Close to the lift to work.”

“Alright. I’m going to call in a favor from a friend to get the Carta off your back. You aren’t working at the Rose, are you?” Anders stood up, satisfied that he leg was healed.

“No Ser. I finally got me a job at a bakery. Come in early, work till midday. Pay is decent and I get to bring home bread. Owner’s a Marcher, but he treats me well. A few months and maybe...maybe I can find a spot in Lowtown.” The woman stood and rifled in a pouch. “Here. I know it ain’t much. Specially since you’re talking to a friend but…”

“Keep it.” Anders slowly curled her fingers around the copper. “Use it for your child. See that woman over there? That’s Marta. Give her your name and where you’re squatting and we’ll take care of it. I promise. You tell the Carta to see me if they have a problem.”

“Maker’s Blessings, Healer. I won’t forget this.” The woman brushed tears from her cheeks. She waffled and then threw herself at Anders, hugging him tightly. From near the back corner came a soft growl and then sigh, Fenris shifting in embarrassment. “Your Alpha’s a good one. Thank you.”

Anders glanced back at Fenris who shrugged. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to smile at Anthony. “Well then. What are you doing in Kirkwall?”

“Bringing my Mate home to visit family.” Anthony slowly moved to stand near Anders, his Mate giving a shy smile. “This is Emma. Emma, this is Anders.”

“The Omega Jeb went on and on about?” Emma had a musical voice, her brogue light. “He is handsome.”

“He is. And mine.” Fenris had made his way across the clinic, standing beside Anders. “I am Fenris, his Alpha.”

“Anthony. I am very pleased to meet you.” Anthony held out his hand, a hopeful smile on his face. Fenris blinked and slowly held out his hand, smiling slightly as the human took it to shake. “I told Jeb to butt out but...little brothers.”

“Indeed. I believe Jeb and I have come to an understanding.” Fenris turned his slight smile on Emma. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Emma.”

“You’re Mated to an elf?” Emma blinked.

Anders chuckled. “Not yet, we are courting. What? Stop growling you blighted Alpha.”

“We are waiting on the mansion to be finished. It is being fixed.” Fenris growled, trying to reign in his protective instincts.

“I didn’t mean to…” Emma glanced up at Anthony. “In Starkhaven, there are no Alpha elves.”

“Very few in Kirkwall as well,” Fenris said, voice still rough. “The few here are in the Guard.”

“I just wanted to bring Emma by, see your new clinic, and actually meet your Alpha. I’m happy for you, Anders. I know Jeb was hoping we would...well, I know what he hoped. But seeing Fenris, well. I think he is exactly what you need.” Anthony said, laughing when Anders made a face. “We’ll be in Kirkwall for a week. If you don’t mind, I’d like to visit again.”

Fenris laid a hand on Anders’ shoulder and squeezed. “I am fine with you visiting.”

“I believe that question was directed to me.” Anders pulled away and scowled.

Anthony and Fenris just chuckled. “How you put up with him, I don’t know,” Anthony said.

Anders muttered as Fenris grinned, an honest smile on his face. “He is exactly what I would wish for. It was pleasant to meet you.”

“And you as well. Are you ready, Emma?” Anthony glanced down.

Emma tilted her head and smiled up at Anders. “Visit us for dinner one night?”

“I...yes. We would like that, yes. Thank you.” Anders flushed.

“Well then, I am ready to go. It was lovely meeting you both,” Emma said with a smile.

Anders watched Anthony gently lead Emma from the clinic before looking at Fenris. “I’d rather have you, in case you were wondering.”

Fenris slid his hand down Anders’ back and then around his waist. Tugging gently, he pulled Anders to him. “Soon. The mansion will be done soon. And then, Anders. Then I will make you mine.”

***

Anders lit the last candle on the mantle and turned to check the room one more time. The bed had new sheets on it, new blankets, new pillows. A brand new carpet graced the floor. Candles sat in crystal holders on the mantle, each candle lit with a dancing flame. The fireplace was lit. He had bathed, had brushed his hair...was in the sleep pants Fenris had bought him.

Wringing his hands, Anders sat on a chair by the fireplace. His toes wiggled as he watched the fire burn. A minute passed and then he was standing, pacing in front of the fireplace. Turning, he huffed and walked to the bed to stare down at it. His hands clenched, and he turned back to stare at the fire. He was just about to pace back to the chair when Fenris cleared his throat and stepped into the room.

“What is all this?”

Anders opened his mouth, closed it, and waved his hands at the bed. Fear filled him for a moment, the words sticking in his throat. Fenris slowly moved towards him, hands held out. “It is alright, Anders. You can tell me.”

“We are in the mansion.” The words were whispered.

“Yes we are.” Fenris agreed.

“I’m tired of waiting,” Anders said, swallowing and gesturing to the bed again. “I want you to Mate me.”

Fenris smiled, a full unguarded smile that lit his face. “And you did this for me?”

“Yes.”

“And you are scared.” Fenris didn’t need to make it a question, though Anders answered anyways.

“I have never been knotted.” Anders rubbed his hands over his sleep pants. “Will it hurt?”

Fenris drew Anders to him, wrapping one hand around his neck to draw his face closer. “No. You will beg me for it. I swear it.” The words were a whispered promise before Fenris sealed their lips together in a kiss. Whispered as he slowly undressed and then removed Anders’ sleep pants.

You will beg me for it.

Words Fenris had repeated throughout their courting. A promise to Anders to not do anything until he was ready, no Mating, no knotting, no touching or kissing. A promise he had kept.

Anders lay back on the bed, naked, aroused, flushed and needy - Fenris pressed to his chest, biting and sucking at his lips, his chin, his neck. And Anders begged.

“Please. Now. Please. I want you to.” The words were repeated over and over, desperation coloring every syllable.

Fenris pulled back just long enough to meet Anders’ gaze, to see for himself that Anders wanted this. What he saw had him inhaling sharply. A hissed inhale that was all the warning Anders had before Fenris bit him, hard, at the juncture of neck and shoulder. Teeth dug into skin and it hurt only briefly, only for a moment. And then something seemed to pass between them - a current of energy that wrapped them both together till their scents mingled, the bite sealing a promise made. Two hearts, two lives joined.

When Fenris pulled back, licking the small drops of Anders’ blood from his lips, it was only long enough to whisper “roll over.” Anders obeyed, a pleased moan coming from him. The moan grew louder as Fenris pulled his hips up and leaned forward to nip at at his ass - leaving tiny red marks on the pale skin.

“Please. Fenris please.” Anders gripped the sheets.

“Slowly.” Fenris whispered. “Let me prepare you. Let me pleasure you.”

The jar of slick on the bedside table was passed to Fenris, who smiled - pleased at the scent of elfroot that wafted up when he unscrewed the lid. He coated his fingers, teasing Anders with gentle strokes, licks along his lower back, kisses pressed to his spine. He licked up Anders’ back as he worked one finger in, moving slowly - stretching, teasing. Then two fingers...three...twisting his wrist and making Anders whine and beg.

It was only when Anders’ hips thrust back, body loose and open, that Fenris pressed in - gradually, so slowly that Anders clawed at the bed and arched back. A single, steady thrust that seated Fenris in tight heat. He draped himself over Anders, pressed a kiss to the back of Anders’ neck, and then moved.

“Yes, please...please...more…” Anders was panting, writhing, thrusting harder against Fenris - who growled as pleasure tightened around him. “Want you. Want you so bad.”

Fenris wrapped an arm around Anders’ waist, bit down on his shoulder, and started thrusting in completely, hilting himself, pushing Anders into the bed. His frantic thrusts turned to rocking as his knot filled Anders - both of them moaning as he swelled. His hand moved down to grasp Anders’ cock, fisting him rapidly. Anders gave a shout that turned into a scream as pleasure hit, cumming over Fenris’ hand and the bed. The sudden pulse had Fenris tightening his grip on Anders’ shoulder - joining him in pleasure.

They panted, Anders’ face pressed to the bed and Fenris resting against his back. “We should lie down,” Fenris said finally. “We will be here for a while.”

Anders moved wrong and inhaled as Fenris’ knot shifted. Pleasure spiraled up his body and he writhed. “Fenris…”

“Shh. I have you. Let me move you to your side. There. See?” Fenris nuzzled the back of Anders’ neck. “Mine. You are mine, and I am yours.”

Anders shivered, settled, and then snuggled back. “How long will we be here?”

“Usually half an hour. More during a heat, though during a heat I can stimulate you like this.” Fenris ran a hand up Anders’ chest to tease at the base of the Mating mark. “Does it hurt?”

“No. It did for a brief moment. Then...I don’t know. I feel complete. Happy.” Anders stroked a finger over the back of Fenris’ hand. “When you touch the mark, I feel safe.”

Fenris kissed the bite mark on Anders’ shoulder. “Anders.”

“Mm?”

“I am yours. And I swear to you, I will never leave you. You are home now.”

“Does this mean I can finally get a cat?” Anders’ voice was hopeful.

Fenris rested his forehead against Anders’ back, trying to suppress his chuckles.

“Does that mean yes?”

“Yes Anders. That means yes.”

***

They stood in the entryway to the Viscount Keep’s ballroom. Kirkwall’s nobility swirled in colorful circles to the music, mingled, watched the dancing - all waiting for the official announcement of Saemus’ Courting and Bethany’s introduction. It was the largest social gathering of the year, and the only one Fenris had deigned to attend.

They both fidgeted, pulling at the unfamiliar neckties, tugging at unfamiliar formal jackets. Fenris shifted, frowning at the sensation of thin shoes over his feet. Anders’ fingers stroked up his neck and over the back of his ear, calming Fenris and making him purr softly.

Hawke and Merrill were introduced, bowed, and entered the ballroom. Newly mated, they had been introduced as Lord Garrett and Merrill Hawke of Hightown. Anders’ lips twitched at the thought of Fenris being introduced as Lord Fenris. The small smile graduated to a snort of laughter that had Fenris pinching his wrist and frowning.

“Lord Fenris.” Anders murmured.

“With his apostate Mate.” Fenris muttered. “A slave and his Mage.”

Anders gave a soft giggle. “Is that Varric’s newest story?”

“Hush you. It is time.”

“Yes, oh might Alpha.” Anders intoned the words as they stepped forward, causing the Viscount’s Herald to have to cover a laugh.

“Behave.” Fenris shook his head and turned and imperious look on the ballroom. Anders settled and took Fenris’ hand, entwining their fingers.

“Lord Fenris and his Mate, Anders.” The Herald called. They paused a moment after the introduction, heads held high, bowed, and then stepped into the ballroom together.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to all those who listened to me moan and groan over this story.
> 
> I love you guys.
> 
> I can be found on Tumblr under Warriormaggie.


End file.
